Haunted
by quiet-heart
Summary: Chris has a new girlfriend in his life, and she's sexy, sassy, and smart, but she's also hiding a secret, and that secret could change everything for everyone, especially when a dead sailor turns up, one who has a few secrets of his own.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sassy and sexy were two of Christopher LaSalle's favorite things in women, and the blonde woman in his arms was definitely both. She had a mess of curly blonde hair that was only just held back by a hair clip, bright eyes and she reached his earlobes in height. She was wearing some kind of cream-colored blouse with a high neck and poofy long-sleeves that didn't look out of place in the store, wide dark brown palazzo pants that could have been mistaken for a skirt, and black booties.

As for how she wound up in his arms, well, he was still trying to figure that out. When he and Pride had entered the store, Brooks and Dunn's _I've Got a Lot to Learn _was playing over the store speakers and the woman had been dancing across the store, clipboard in hand as she made notes about something. When she'd come in front of him, he'd impulsively snagged her and she, after being startled, grinned at him and then they were both dancing across the store to the rhythmic country beat, the woman clearly knowing the lyrics.

He and Dwayne Pride were at _Haddy's Antique Glassware_ because they had been asked to pick up some decanters that Pride's brother, Jimmy Boyd, had bought from the store but had been unable to take with him at the time.

"Hi there," she said, smiling breathlessly, once the song was over. "Can I help you?"

"Chris LaSalle, NCIS. Nice to meet you," he said, grinning at her. "This is Dwayne Pride," he said, nodding at his friend and boss.

"My brother, Jimmy Boyd, sent me to pick up some decanters for the Trutone," Pride said, smiling at the woman.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Rayhanah Metcalf, but friends call me Ray," Ray said, shaking the men's hands, showing Chris a firm grip. Her accent suggested she was from the same place as he was; Alabama.

"I can do that," Chris said, flashing her his most charming grin. It worked, and Ray blushed, tucking a stray curl behind one ear.

Clearing her throat, Ray asked, "May I see some identification, please?" Pride showed her his driver's license, and she made a note on her clipboard. "One moment, please," she said, heading for a pair of swinging bar doors at the back of the store, the two men following her to the store counter. The store may have had an antique feel and look to it, but the touchscreen terminal and payment terminal said the store was equipped with modern conveniences. Ray emerged a moment later with a cardboard box with a recent date, and the word BOYD on it in black marker.

"Wow, those are nice," Chris said, as Pride pulled one of them out. The crystal cut glass gleamed in the light.

"Got 'em at an estate sale for the late Reginald Bartholomew. Fellow loved his drinks and I was able to get a good deal on some stuff there," Ray explained.

"Reginald Bartholomew the Third?" Pride asked, eyes going a bit wide, recognizing the name.

"One and the same. Reggie the Fourth was quite happy to sell me this stuff once I explained my business, and the promise that the pieces would go to where they would be appreciated."

"Trust me, they will be appreciated," Pride said, admiring the other bottles. "Do I need to sign anything?" he asked, placing the bottles back in the box.

"Just a receipt that says these were picked up, which I will get as soon as I can find the damn thing," Ray muttered, poking around her desk, her brow furrowing.

While she did that, Chris took the time to poke around the store. _Haddy's Antique Glassware _was one of those stores that could be easily overlooked, until you got curious enough to look closer. And then, once you did, it was a feast for the eyes. Everywhere you looked, there was glass of all shapes, sizes, and colors. If it was made of glass, regardless of how it was meant to be used, it was there. There was even a glass and porcelain men's shaving set that would have set someone back a neat hundred.

On one table was a box full of glass door handles some renovator or interior decorator would be glad to get their hands on. Hanging from the ceiling, cords curled neatly, were several hanging chandeliers and lamps, their metals gleaming as brightly as their glass, just like the jewelry boxes nearby. Chris glanced up and spotted a cobalt blue glass hanging swag lamp, wire coiled neatly beside it.

"Do any of these work?" he called, studying the lamp.

"They do. Wires have been updated and connections cleaned. If you know what you're doing, the ceiling ones can be installed easily enough," Ray called back. "Anything electrical like that, I personally make sure that it gets checked over by a certified electrician."

"You get a lot of stuff like that?" Pride asked, impressed with the way the store was laid out. He spotted a hurricane lamp he was sure his daughter, Laurel, would love.

"Ever since I started cleaning this place up, oh yeah. Damn it, Mary, where'd you put my book this time?" Ray muttered. She finally went over to a rocking chair in one corner and poked around the drawer of the side table, pulling out a receipt book with the store name on it. "Ah ha! Not funny, Mary!"

She went back to the counter and quickly found the page she was looking for. "Here we go," she said. Pride quickly signed the page and she gave him the duplicate copy. "As for that lamp, it normal goes for fifty, but if you keep smiling at me like that, and you buy me a drink at the Trutone, I'm willing to drop that in half, with the added condition that you promise me you'll take care of it," she said, sauntering over to Chris, a playful grin on her face.

Chris smiled even wider at her. "I give you my word as a federal agent I will take care of it. I even have a place in mind for it," he said, turning on the charm, which resulted in another blush going across Ray's face.

"In that case, I think we have a deal. Let me find a ladder, a box for the lamp, and write up the paperwork," she said.

"But are you sure you can make that kind of deal?" Chris asked.

"I'm the manager here; you're damn right I can," Ray shot back, heading for the back, causing both men to chuckle in amusement.

"Smooth," Pride said, joining Chris.

"She's sassy and sexy, two of my favorite qualities in women," Chris said. "And she can dance."

"And from what Jimmy tells me, she's smart," Pride said. "She's a former paralegal for City Hall, who got out before Hamilton's administration came crashing down."

"Sexy, sassy, and smart, all of my favorite things," Chris said.

"Does it help that I like college football and can get just as loud as the next person during college football playoffs?" Ray asked, returning with a box and a stepladder.

Chris grinned. "Which college?"

"Alabama University. I attended Gadsden Community only because I got a scholarship there for the Paralegal program, but I attended every Crimson Tide football game I could," Ray said, carefully unhooking the lamp from the ceiling hook and placing it in the box. The two men followed her back to the counter and she quickly did up the order, with Chris paying by debit card. She handed Chris the receipt and he noticed it had a phone number on it.

He grinned, reached into his wallet, and pulled out one of his business cards. "Seven-thirty, Trutone?" he asked, writing his personal cell phone on the back.

"Done and done," Ray said, accepting the business card. "Nice doing business with you, gentlemen."

"Likewise, ma'am," Chris said, still grinning.

As they left the store, Pride smirked at his friend. "Since when do you buy a shag lamp?"

"Since I started chasing a certain blonde with more curls than my curly fries," Chris said, grinning.

"Well, if you're not careful about the way you install that lamp, you're going to have matching hair," Pride shot back.

"That's when I call an electrician," Chris said.

As the door to _Haddy's _closed, Ray couldn't get the grin off her face. Chris was cute, he had a nice set of biceps and shoulders, and a smile that made her feel like a giggling teenager from an all-girl school who had just gotten a smile from her crush.

A motion caught her eye; the rocking chair was moving, even though there was no one in the chair.

Ray huffed. "Don't get your bloomers in a twist, Mary. I'll get you a fresh cup of tea, but you behave. It's been a while since I've had a date, and Chris was charming and looked like he could be fun, and a little fun never hurt anyone."

She headed for the back of the store, already thinking about what she might wear for the date that night, and wondering whether or not she should put a condom in her purse just in case. She didn't go past first base on the first date very often, if ever, but with Chris LaSalle, she wouldn't mind making an exception to the case.

At seven-thirty that night, at the Trutone, Chris swore he'd swallowed his tongue. Ray had just walked in, and she'd changed her clothes. Now she was wearing black thigh high boots with embroidery detailing and chunky heels, snug jeans that hugged her hips and thighs, a black satin camisole top, and a long black lace jacket. Her hair, previously held back, was now in a cascade of curls around her shoulders and face. As for her face, she'd done that dark eyeliner thing that women were good at, and her lips were tinted 'kiss me' pink. Glittery glass studs were in her ears, and a black choker with glittering glass details completed her look.

"Hey there," he said, joining her at the bar.

Her face lit up. "Hi," she said, her voice husky. With the way she was looking at him, he was glad he'd taken the time to change his shirt into something a bit more dressy, and clean up a bit.

"Hey there," Jimmy said, joining them, a grin on his face. "What's your poison tonight?"

"Black tea and rum, please," Ray said, flashing Jimmy a smile.

"Whatever's on tap tonight," Chris said.

"Beer and a black tea and rum coming up," Jimmy said. "By the way, I was right; found a perfect spot for those decanters." He pointed to a spot behind the bar, where the decanters gleamed in the light.

"Perfect," Ray said, smiling. She turned to Chris once Jimmy left to take care of their order. "So you're a federal agent, huh? Sounds like fun."

"It has its moments. Pride said you were a paralegal for City Hall but got out before Hamiliton came crashing down," Chris said.

"That's right. Saw the writing on the wall and decided to get out before something bad happened. Besides, the only reason I was a paralegal was because it was a means of escaping a small hole-in-the-wall town in Alabama. You know it's getting bad when the local sheriff knows you by name. I got lucky and got a scholarship to Gadsden and got the hell out as fast as I could," Ray said.

"You in trouble much?" Chris asked.

"Nope, but Mama was the town drunk, especially after Geema died when I was fourteen."

"And your dad?"

"Nonexistent, but from what little I was told, no big loss. Besides, I managed just fine without him. Geema kept me on the straight and narrow, and after she passed, Big May did the rest. She was the town aunt and you either loved her to bits or hated her very soul. Guess which side Ma was on?"

"The hating part, and I'm betting you were on the loving part," Chris said.

"Right as rain. What about you? What made you put that fancy badge on and come out here?"

"Worked Vice for a while after graduating from AU, and met Pride during Hurricane Katrina. Decided I liked his job better than mine, and decided it was more fun chasing after him than being in the NOPD," Chris said. "I got family in Alabama, but they're scattered all over the place these days. Besides, my family is here, with my teammates. Sometimes, family is what you make it, not what you're born to."

"I hear ya there," she said.

Their drinks came, and Chris moved them to a quiet corner of the bar, if such a thing was possible, given the fact that a live band was kicking up, and ignoring the grins from his friends.

An hour passed, and they chatted about everything and anything, and somehow their fingers tangled and their knees were touching. He found himself running his thumb over the ring on her right hand, which she explained was black tourmaline, and she seemed in no hurry to pull away. In fact, she seemed to lean closer.

Then she threw a glance at her watch, an Apple Watch, toggled it for the time, and cursed.

"As much as I would love to continue this, and trust me, I would, I need to head home. I have to open the store tomorrow," she said, "and I don't want to scare off my customers by looking like a zombie."

"Fair enough. You live far from here?" he asked, knowing she'd taken an Uber.

"Right above the store," she said.

"I can take you home," he offered, not ready to let the night end.

"Offer accepted," she said.

At the store, Chris was surprised to see a lamp glowing in the store. "Is that normal?" he asked, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"That's Mary, and that's a story for another time," Ray said, looking at him with eyes that said very clearly she wasn't interested in talking so much as doing.

And then she was in his arms and he was quickly discovering that her kissable lips were just that; very, very kissable.

After a long, heated moment, they came up for air.

"There's going to be a second date," he swore.

"Start thinking about what you're making for dinner, cutie, and I'll be there," she promised, liking how his hands felt on her face and on her body.

"I'll call you. But right now, you'd better run, because if you don't, you won't make it out of this truck with your shirt still on," he said, knowing he was going to have problems when he got home in a bit, and that didn't include the teasing and questions from his friends.

She groaned, reluctantly tearing herself out of his warm, inviting arms and away from his sinful mouth. "I'm running."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chris was doing a mental inventory of his kitchen, trying to decide what he could make for dinner for his next date with Ray, when someone's phone rang.

"NCIS," Special Agent Hannah Khoury said, answering the phone.

"_Go to Lafayette Cemetery. You will find the body of a man wearing a white Navy uniform between Parkerson and Montello, fifteen tombs down from the main entrance. His jaw is missing. You will find a star on the tombs to mark the location_," a voice said. Hannah couldn't tell if it was male or female, but she could tell it was digitally altered, which got her attention.

"Do you know the name of the victim?" she asked.

"_Ryder. Look for his dog tags. They're important._"

"Will you be at the cemetery? I'd love to ask you some questions about how you know what you know."

"_No. You know what you need to know. The rest is your problem._" There was a click as the caller hung up.

"Just got a tip about a body in Lafayette Cemetery," Khoury said, hanging up her phone. "Caller said the victim is male, wearing a Navy uniform, and missing his jaw."

"Did the caller say where in the cemetery?" Special Agent Tammy Gregorio asked sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Hannah said, glancing at her notes. "Fifteen tombs down from the main entrance, between _Parkerson _ and _Montello_. Caller said he left a star between the two tombs to mark the point but refused to wait until we got there."

"No name?" Chris asked, grabbing his gear.

"Nothing offered, none given. The caller did say the victim's name was Ryders, so we'll see what happens," Hannah said.

At the cemetery, just as the caller had said, they found their sailor.

"NOPD is questioning people, but so far they're getting the same story: no one saw anything unusual, no one heard anything unusual," Hannah said.

"Good place for a body dump," Tammy said, looking around. Their victim was where the caller had said he would be, and he was missing his jaw. How that had happened, was the big question, but either way, it hadn't been pretty, as evident by the blood all over his uniform. The blood, however, was confined to the victim, hence Tammy's observation.

"No useable tracks, and no cameras," Chris said, glancing around.  
"Found the dog tags the caller mentioned, and there's something weird about one of them," Sebastian said, holding up a pair of dog tags. He fiddled with one of them for a moment, and then suddenly, one of the tags popped out a memory stick. "That's why it's weird. It's a hidden memory stick."

"Think those numbers might have something to do with the memory stick?" Hannah asked, pointing to one wall of a crypt, where someone had written a series of numbers in black charcoal. It was the same black charcoal that had been used for the stars.

"Worth a try," Sebastian said, "but we won't know until we get back."

"Someone put those numbers there for a reason," Tammy said. "But who? Our caller?"

"And why?" Chris asked. "And how did our caller even know he was here?"

"Well, I can tell you one thing; whoever put those numbers there, did it after Lieutenant Ryder was killed," Dr. Loretta Wade said, removing her liver probe. "This poor soul's been dead for at least eight to twelve hours. And as for cause of death? I'm glad to say it wasn't because of his missing jaw."

"Something else?" Hannah asked.

"A bullet to the head something else," Loretta said, carefully turning the victim's head to show thiem a nasty-looking bullet hole in the back of the victim's head.

"So why the jaw removal?" Tammy asked. "A warning to others, maybe, about talking? General spitefulness? General creep factor?"

"Have we even found the jaw?" Hannah asked.

"No sign of it," Chris said. "How was it even removed?"

"Precisely and with something sharp," Loretta said. "And we're not just talking the bone."

"The whole lower jaw," Hannah said. "That would take some skill and some work."

"Which sounds like what we have to do," Tammy said.

There was nothing special about the placement of the victim, other than the fact that he'd been dragged behind two tombs. In fact, in order to find him in the first place, they'd practically had to circle the buildings.

"Big question; why did the killer put him here? Had to know he'd be found sooner or later." Tammy said.

"Probably thought it would be under the Later category, and hopefully long enough for the body to be unrecognizable. Still falls under the same category as the missing jaw," Chris said.

"Which is what?" Tammy asked.

"Weird," Chris said.

On the way back to NCIS, Tammy jumped her friend.

"How'd your date go last night? You two were looking awfully cozy," Tammy said, grinning at him.

Chris chuckled. "Her name is Rayhanah Metcalf, manager for _Haddy's Antique Glassware_. Met her yesterday when King and I picked up some decanters Jimmy'd bought for Trutone. Bought a lamp off her for half price, in exchange for a drink at Trutone. Already trying to figure out what to do for the next date."

"She give you any suggestions?" Tammy asked.

"Yeah, start thinking about what to make for dinner," Chris said. "Trouble is, I can cook, but not like King."

"So don't. Your spaghetti and meatballs are pretty good, and if you don't want to do that, try a picnic in your living room. Bottle of wine, fried chicken, maybe some sandwiches, salad, and definately desert. Clear some space and put a blanket on the floor and you're good to go."

"Doesn't sound like much," Chris said.

"Maybe not, but because it's private, you don't have to worry about the weather, insects, or lookie loos, which means you can have a bit more fun than you would do if you were in a public setting," Tammy said, a knowing smirk on her face.

"Huh."

Once they were back at NCIS, the team got to work, digging into the memory drive and Ryder's life.

"Lieutenant Jack Ryder, worked the Logistics department at the Naval Air Station Joint Reserve Base," Chris later said. "Clean record, couple of notes about his skill in communications, but otherwise nothing but good to say about him from his CO."

"Social media is almost nonexistent on the one Facebook page this guy does have," Tammy said. "Looks like he does more reading than posting. Bank accounts show no suspicious activity, and nothing of any interest on his credit cards."

"What about his cell phone?" Hannah asked.

"Patton says it's either turned off or destroyed, because he can't locate it, so he's trying to track where it was," Chris said.

"I can tell you one thing though," said Patton Plame, rolling into the room. "He made a few calls to none other than Pride himself." He pulled up a list of phone numbers on the flatscreen and highlighted a series of numbers, ones that were recognizable.

"Calling him now," Hannah said, picking up her phone.

Pride did indeed recognize Lieutenant Ryder. "_He was supposed to come by my office today, said he had some information for me regarding a suspected terrorist that was in New Orleans. Said he had proof,_" Pride said, communicating through video feed. "_What happened to him?_"

"A tip lead us to his body at Lafayette Cemetery. So far it looks like a headshot, but what we can't figure out is why the killer took his lower jaw," Hannah explained.

"_His lower jaw?_" Pride repeated, confused.

"Yup. Sebastian found a memory stick hidden in his dog tags and our tip caller left a bunch of numbers on a tomb wall," Chris said. "He's running them now."

"Not any more," Sebastian said, coming into the room.

"_What was on the memory card, Sebastian?_" Pride asked.

Sebastian went to one of the computers and started typing. "A bunch of surveillance photos of this guy," he said, throwing the photos up on the flatscreen. "The numbers were the password to the memory stick. Somehow the caller knew what the password was."

"Who is this guy?" Tammy asked.

"Facial rec says Omar Ahuja. He's a businessman with no known ties to any terrorist organization," Sebastian said.

"_Not on the surface_," Pride admitted. "_CIA's had him on their watch list for a while, mostly because of where his money's been going, and that's been to several suspected terrorist organizations with supposedly legitimate business ties._"

"Is he supposed to be in New Orleans?" Hannah asked.

"_Some of his business interests do include shipping,_" Pride admitted. "_And we've got plenty of that._"

"So how'd a low-level logistics guy like Ryder know about someone like Ahuja?" Tammy asked. "Could he be CIA-connected? And how'd our caller even know about the dog tags and the password to them in the first place?"

"_You got a call about Ryder?_" Pride asked. "_And the caller gave you his password? By any chance, did the caller have an altered voice?_"

"Sound familiar to you?" Hannah asked.

"_Was Ryder's body a bit hard to find?_" Pride asked.

"Hidden behind two tombs. The caller told us exactly where to find him, and when we got there, the password numbers were written on one wall of the tomb in charcoal," Hannah said.

"_Let me guess; refused to answer any questions or stick around,_" Pride said.

"Got it in one," Hannah said.

"King?" Chris asked.

"_Sounds like someone I call Kritanta. He, or she, calls every now and then, has done for about five, six years now, on and off_," Pride said. "_Always tells me where to find a body, always has an altered voice, never leaves any prints or witnesses, and the body is always hard to find in the first place. First time it happened was a note I got after passing through City Hall one day, and it was typed, so I couldn't trace the handwriting_."

"Prints?" Chris asked.

"_Nothing_," Pride admitted. "_Two days later I got the first call, a follow-up on the victim, which wound up helping us solve the case._"

"Any follow up calls or attempts to trace?" Tammy asked.

"_Only twice that I can remember was there more than one call about the same victim, and the last time I tried to trace the call led to a cell phone with no name. Caller always calls from the same location as the found victim or in a public area with hundreds of people_," Pride said.

"Which is what happened when I tried to trace that call," Sebastian admitted. "Kritanta called from Lafayette Cemetery, and then shut the phone off."

"Okay, so getting back on track. We need to find out how Lieutenant Ryder knew about Omar Ahuja and retrace his steps to where he was possibly murdered so we can figure out who murdered him," Hannah said.

"_Sebastian, can you please send me those photos?_" Pride asked. "_I'll have the people over here take a closer look at them, see if they can figure out what he was up to that had Ryder so interested in him_."

"Tammy, you and I are going to go talk to Lieutenant Ryder's CO and his coworkers, see if anyone saw him talking to someone they didn't recognize," Hannah said. "Chris, you and Sebastian retrace Ryder's steps."

"His bank says he made a purchase at a coffee shop the day before, and that was his last transaction," Chris said. "We can start there, see if anyone recognized him."

"_Keep me posted,_" Pride said, signing off.

Later, as Chris and Sebastian made their way through the streets of New Orleans, Chris sent Ray a message.

"_Hey Pretty Lady. Care to join me for a picnic tonight if work doesn't hold me up?_"

A moment later, he got a reply that had him grinning.

"_If you promise to kiss me again, Handsome, the way you did last night, then a picnic with you sounds like fun_."

"_I'll kiss you anywhere you want_."

"_In that case, I'll bring the drinks, but they won't be alcoholic._"

"_How come?_"

"_Because I still have to get home and I want a clear head when I'm messing with you_."

"_Fair enough. Should know by five today what's happening_."

"_Let me know and send me the address_."

"_Will do_."

"Your new girlfriend?" Sebastian asked Chris, seeing the grin on his friend's face.

"Looks like it. Date number two tonight, if I get the chance."

"Hope for the best, if anyone cooperates with us, that is."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A search on the streets turned up nothing, and the same with talking to Lieutenant Ryder's coworkers. Ryder had been at the coffee shop, but the staff there didn't remember seeing anything unusual about him or anyone with him.

As for the photographs, several of them were taken at a shipping dock that was near the Naval Reserve, and Omar Ahuja had been seen there, but no one could, or would, confirm or deny anything suspicious.

Chris threw down his pen in frustration, and glanced at his watch. It was going on five in the evening, and at the rate things were going, he was going to have to cancel his date with Ray, abet reluctantly. They still had a lot more digging to do that night, and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to get home in time to get stuff ready for a picnic.

Reluctantly he picked up his phone.

"_Hey Chris, what's up?_" came Ray's soothing voice.

"Got some bad news, I'm afraid," he said, rubbing his neck, which was starting to get sore.

"_Let me guess; your case is going the way of the dodo bird and you won't be able to join me for dinner tonight_," Ray said.

"Something like that, yeah," Chris said, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"_You sound tired. Is it that bad?_"

"It's driving us nuts," he admitted.

"_Tell you what; how about if I bring you dinner? You and your friends? As a former paralegal who's done her fair share of late night work, I can understand what it's like to have to work as late as you are_."

"You don't have to do that," Chris said.

"_No, I don't, but never issue me a challenge, cutie. Give me a bit, and I'll let you know when I'm there. How many of you are there and is anyone allergic to anything?_"

"Not to my knowledge, and there's five of us right now."

"_Then, in that case, I'll see you all soon_," she said, ending the phone call.

Chris stared at his phone, and started laughing in amusement.

"That didn't sound so bad for someone who was breaking a date," Tammy said, curious.

"That's because she offered to come here and feed us. Said she was a former paralegal who'd done her fair share of late night work and she could understand where we were coming from," Chris said.

Tammy stared at him. "You break this woman's heart and I will break your kneecaps. And that's a promise."

"If she's bringing food, that'll be more than what we have right now," Sebastian groused. "Which is absolutely nothing."

"He's right about that," Hannah said, frustrated. "Bluntly put, this guy was boring. Other than the photos, there is nothing and no one who wanted him dead, or would have reason to."

"I found one of his ex-girlfriends," Tammy said. "Other than being a really good communicator , he made tapeworms look exciting, and frankly, tapeworms are gross."

"Well, if it's not his personality, or anything to do with the Navy, then what about his missing jaw? Loretta did say it was removed after he'd been shot, so there had to be a reason for it," Sebastian said. "Ritualistic?"  
"If it was, it wasn't anything he was involved in; guy was Catholic," Chris said, "And even that was up for debate because nobody ever actually saw him attend services."

"So we have nothing," Tammy said.

"Maybe not on the surface, but we didn't exactly do a very thorough search of his apartment," Chris admitted.

"First thing tomorrow," Hannah said. "Tear it apart."

"And we still can't find his car, even though we have a BOLO on it," Tammy admitted. "Missing jaw might be a way of throwing us off if it was vehicle theft."

"Maybe Kirtanta might be able to offer a suggestion," Patton said, having joined them. "Seemed to know about the victim and his memory card in the first place."

"Any luck tracing that call?" Hannah asked.

"Just like Pride and Sebastian said; came on long enough to make the call, at the cemetery, then was turned off, and it's stayed off," Patton said. "And no, I can't turn it back on remotely. I even ran call history, and we have about a dozen calls, and they all go to the NCIS tip line, and they're all short, a minute or two at the most."

"And no clue who the phone belongs to?" Hannah asked.

"Goes to a post office box that has about six hundred boxes and lousy cameras I can't access remotely," Patton said. "Whoever Kirtanta is, he or she does not want to be found."

"That phone is being paid by someone somehow," Tammy said.

"Yeah, by someone who's dead," Patton said. He threw up an image on the screen of an elderly man. "Meet Joseph Smith. Records say he died about five years ago, and during that time, someone set up a bank account under his name. Every month, right around bill time, someone deposits enough money to cover the phone bill, and that's it."

"Transfer?" Chris asked.

"If only it were that easy," Patton grumbled. "Cash deposit at one of the major bank ATM's in the city. Like I said, whoever this person is, he or she is making every attempt at covering their tracks, and is doing a damn good job of it."

Chris leaned back in his chair and groaned, rubbing his face in frustration.

"Did either of you find anything in his clouds?" Hannah asked.

"Nothing with his name on it," Sebastian admitted.

"And I'm afraid I'm not going to be of much help," Loretta said, joining them. "I found some fibres on Lieutenant Ryder's uniform, which I sent to Sebastian, but otherwise, he was clean. What I can tell you is he wasn't shot with a gun, so much as he was killed with a bolt gun, the same kind used on pigs and cows prior to slaughter." She handed her report to Hannah, who glanced it over.

"So no bullet," Tammy said.

"No bullet, I'm afraid. As for what removed his jaw, all I can tell you is that it was sharp and sure. And the killer didn't just remove his jaw; his tongue and throat, including his vocal chords, were also removed," Loretta said.

"Since I can't find anything here, I'll head back over to the lab and see what I can find with those fibres," Sebastian said tiredly.

"Not yet," Chris said, glancing at his phone, which had signaled a received message. "Be right back. Ray's here and she just asked me if we have a kitchen." He headed outside, grinning.

"Ray?" Loretta asked, curious.

"Chris's new girlfriend. Former paralegal turned manager for some antique glassware store," Tammy said. "She offered to bring us dinner when he had to cancel his date with her tonight."

"Interesting," Loretta said thoughtfully.

Outside, standing beside a green 1962 Cadillac sedan Deville, was Ray. She was in jeans, a black t-shirt with country artist Vince Gill on it, a denim and sherpa jacket, her hair back in a clip, and, oddly enough, Deadpool high top sneakers. In the back of the car were several bags from a local pasta place, and Chris felt his stomach rumble in protest when he got a whiff of the contents. From the looks of it, there was enough to feed a small army, never mind six people, seven if Loretta stuck around.

"You are a goddess among men," he said, grinning at her.

"You're damn right I am, and don't you forget it," she said, looping her arms around his neck for a kiss that quickly threatened to cause serious problems for him.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard.

"Damn, woman. I don't know what's going on here, but right now, I like it," he said, holding her close and liking how she fit against him.

"Same here," she said, savoring the contact. "I'm not making any promises, not yet, but I think it's fair to say if you want me to hang around, I'll gladly do so."

"I like the sound of that. Should warn you, though; my job can be a bit nuts and that means occasional broken dates."

"So? If you can't come to me, I'll come to you. Like I said, paralegal. I know my way around the law."

He grinned. "Fair enough."

"I count this as a date, but Number Three had better be at your place, or mine."

"I can do that."

"Good. Now, let's go feed your starving friends, before we both do something stupid, like find out how much room my caddy has for a make-out session," she said, feeling herself heat up with the way he was looking at her.

In the kitchen of NCIS, Ray quickly brought out her offerings, which consisted of several trays of different kinds of pasta, three kinds of salad, and breadsticks.

"Which restaurant did you rob?" Patton asked, eyes wide.

"Place just behind Boulevard. Owners had been searching for some lamps to match their decor for the better part of a year. Found what they wanted in less than a week, at an estate sale for some lady whose family was having to sell everything and anything, thanks to a massive amount of debt she'd managed to incur before dying," Ray explained. "Got the owners of the restaurant what they needed at a good deal, and they said they owed me a major favor. Pays to be willing to get dirty." She grinned as she sucked sauce off one finger.

"How do you get dirty at an estate sale?" Tammy asked., starting to load her plate.

"I don't, unless I'm at a house that's about to be torn down, or digging through someone's attic," Ray explained. "Been working with _Haddy's _for about a year, almost two, now, and some of the stuff I get is the result of being extracted from the building itself, by me. We got a lotta old places, especially in the areas that were slapped hard by Katrina, and people are more willing to tear them down than spend the money to fix 'em up. That means people like me, and even salvagers, find places like those prime pickings. The real good ones can find old things and make 'em new again. I'm friends with a couple who run a salvage operation, and they know I specialize in glassware, whereas they specialize in furniture and architecture, so we keep each other in the loop, because doing that means money for both of us, and sometimes that means getting dirty."

"How'd you go from paralegal to manager of an antique glassware store?" Sebastian asked.

"Still trying to figure that out," Ray admitted. "Was at City Hall when that trouble with Hamilton started, and I was getting serious ideas about getting out, 'cause whispers were saying trouble was comin' down and anyone fool enough to stick around was going to get burned. Had a habit of going for a walk during lunch, and went for a wander one day. Found _Haddy's_, and it was in lousy shape. Owner, Miles, was at the point where he just didn't give a damn anymore. Problem was, I put one foot in the store and fell in love, so I made him a bet. A month's worth of my free time, and I would help him turn the store around. If I managed to succeed in making a decent profit in that time, he would have to hire me as manager."

"I take it you won the bet," Loretta said.

"And then some. Got the place cleaned up, made peace with the resident ghost, and within thirty days of my spare time, I pulled in a decent profit for the store," Ray said. "That was when Miles hired me as his manager and I quit my job at City Hall."

"Excuse me? Resident ghost?" Tammy asked nervously.

"Mary. Nice old lady. The store was her home before it was a store, and she never really left," Ray explained casually. "Chris saw her when he brought me home last night."

"I did?" Chris asked, confused. "Only thing I saw was a lamp on in the store." Then he remembered what Ray had said. "Which you said was Mary and that it was a story for another time."

"Chair and table in the corner belongs to her. People have seen the chair moving when no one's in it, and smelled magnolias when I don't keep fresh ones in the store," Ray explained. "Didn't care much about what was going on when I started renovating the apartment upstairs, and she let me know she wasn't happy, but we made peace. Keep a cup of tea and a biscuit nearby and she's happy. Likes to play games with me every now and then, but nothing serious." She glanced at the NCIS team, who were staring at her with a mix of horror and incredulousness. "And yes, I am perfectly serious. This is New Orleans, and Mary is mild compared to some of the BS that went on at City Hall, especially in the Records department. Six years there, you either got used to it or you ran out faster than a Dodge Charger on nitro, especially if you were working there late at night, which I did my fair share of. Rumor has it the first mayor of New Orleans, Étienne de Boré, likes to hang around the halls at night, when no one else is there. Couple of custodians have had the heck scared out them because of things happening that shouldn't be." Ray shrugged. "Like I said, that's New Orleans for you."

"That is, indeed," Loretta said. "Have you ever been on any of the ghost tours?"

Ray hesitated. "Once, and that was enough for me. Had enough of that working City Hall." She took a mouthful of her pasta and swallowed hard. "Anyway, enough about me. Who's who here?"

Chris quickly introduced his friends, and they all settled down in their respective spots at their desks, with Chris snagging a spare chair for Ray, so she could sit next to him.

"You ever get handed legal cases?" Tammy asked.

"Ooof, no. I was primarily research," Ray admitted. "Got real good at digging through files, both online and in paper. Chris said your case wasn't going well. Can you tell me why?"

"We haven't been able to figure out why anyone would want to kill this guy," Hannah admitted. "Everything about him is clean."

"Even his Twitter, Snapchat, Facebook, that stuff?" Ray asked.

"Same all across the board," Patton admitted. What he didn't tell them and what they couldn't see, was he was running a fast background check on their guest.

"Ex-girlfriend called him a fantastic communicator but as boring as tapeworms," Tammy said.

"Ouch," Ray said. "If NCIS is involved, he was either Navy or Marine, and since I don't think New Orleans has a Marine base, it's fair to guess he was Navy."

"Good guess," Hannah said.

"Was he involved in anything serious?" Ray asked.

"He was with Logistics and didn't have any high security clearances," Chris said. "Only thing everyone did agree on was that he was good at communicating, so he was usually handling paperwork and interdepartmental relations. Seems he had a way with words."

Ray's brow furrowed. "Maybe he pissed someone off that way," she said.

"We asked," Sebastian said. "Nope, nada, nyet, and nay."

"How was he killed?" Ray asked.

"Bolt gun to the head, then the killer removed his lower jaw, throat, and tongue," Loretta said.

"Areas of communication on the body," Ray said, a thoughtful look coming across her face.

"You know something?" Chris asked, curious.

"Might be something, might be nothing, but a few days ago I had this nutter come into the store," Ray admitted. "He was going on and on about my eyes, saying how my eyes were valuable because I could see, and he was willing to offer me a lot of money for me to have them surgically removed for him." She shook her head in disgust. "Told him he was nutter than Aunt May's fruitcake and the only thing I wanted to see was his backside as he left my store, and if I didn't see that within the next five seconds, I could very easily predict what was going to happen, and it was a pretty good guarantee it wasn't going to be very nice." She shrugged again. "Like I said, might be something, might be nothing, but if your victim was skilled with communications, and his communication body parts are missing, and this nutter was obsessed with my eyes, I can't help but wonder."

"You ever get a name?" Chris asked.

"Didn't say. Had a Charles Manson look going about him, though, during his shaggy days, if Charles was ever from India," Ray said. "No discernible accent, though, so he could be a local. Nothing special about his clothes; slacks, shirt, jacket. Casual office wear stuff. Couldn't see anything around his neck or his hands."

"Would you recognize him if you saw him again?" Hannah asked.

"Without a doubt," Ray said.

"Cameras?" Tammy asked hopefully.

"Haven't been able to convince Miles to install them because he doesn't think we're important enough to get robbed," Ray admitted. "But I could probably get something set up if you think it's important enough."

"As you said, might be something, might be nothing, and just because you're not important enough to get robbed, doesn't mean someone might not do something stupid," Chris said. "Cops love cameras and video."

"Good point. I do have some ideas," Ray admitted.

Then Hannah's desk phone rang. After talking to someone for a moment, she hung up and said, "BOLO on Lieutenant Ryder's car just got a hit. Cops found it abandoned at a mall. Security says it's been sitting there for about a day."

Chris glanced at Ray and grinned. "Starting to think you might be a lucky charm. That's the first hit we've had all day."

"Go check the car out, cutie. Sounds like you need all the breaks you can get here," Ray said. "I'll make my way home, and you and I will catch up again at a later date."

"Promise?" Chris asked.

"Pinkie Pie promise," Ray said, grinning as she held up her pinkie finger. Chris caught it with his and gave it a playful tug. "Now git."

"Gittin'," he said, grabbing his gear and following his teammates, but not before stealing a quick kiss from Ray.

"And in the meantime, you and I will keep talking," Loretta said, having been quietly told by Patton that his fast background check on Ray had turned up clean, so far, and as someone who was protective of those she called her own, she wanted to know more about this new woman in Chris' life.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Got a facial print on the driver's side window," Chris said, seeing a smudge on the window. He raised his camera and snapped a photo of it. "If he was hit here, he would have gone face-first into the window."

"He was, what, five ten, five eleven?" Tammy asked.

"Something like that," Hannah said. "Why?"

"Because the driver's seat is pushed much farther back for someone taller than five ten," Tammy said, sitting in the seat. She and Sebastian had already checked the seat and surrounding area for anything useable, and come up with nothing.

Sebastian wrinkled his nose. "Smell that?" he asked. Both Chris and Tammy sniffed the air in the car and scowled. "Bet you anything you like someone used Lysol wipes."

"And plastic on the seat," Chris said, spotting something near the floorboard, just under the seat. He quickly snapped a photo and then carefully extracted the remains of a clear plastic bag.

"That is mine," Sebastian said, as he took the plastic and put it in an evidence bag.

A security guard from the mall joined them, a memory stick in hand. "We went back about three days," the young man said. "There's about seventy-two hours worth of video footage there. Hope it helps. If you need anything more, or in any other area, let us know."

"Thanks a lot," Hannah said. She got their number and sent Patton a quick message, letting him know they had video footage for him. She got a message back.

"_Ray's clean so far. Information matches her stories._"

"Good to know," Hannah muttered.

Back at NCIS, though, what Patton didn't know what that there was a problem, a big one.

Ray was on the floor in the kitchen, holding her head and her mouth in agony. She had been chatting with Loretta when she'd suddenly dropped, eyes going wide with shock and pain.

"Patton!" Loretta yelled, quickly checking her new friend over and not seeing any visible indicators as to what was causing Ray such pain.

To her surprise, Ray shook her head vehemently, motioning sharply with her hand, trying to tell her something, even with tears rolling down her face.

"You need help," Loretta protested. Again, Ray shook her head and slashed the air with her hand, seeming to refuse.

"Loretta, everything okay?" Patton called.

Loretta watched as Ray, again, slashed her hand through the air.

"No, sorry, Patton. Everything's fine," she said, reluctantly, as she helped Ray sit up. "But you are going to tell me what the blazes is going on," she hissed at Ray. "I can't help you if you don't."

Ray nodded reluctantly and gestured for something to write on. Loretta was quickly able to find a notepad and pen.

"_Tell Ryder to LET GO OF ME!_" Ray wrote.

"Ryder? Lieutenant Ryder, our victim?" Loretta asked, confused, putting her arms around the younger woman. Ray jabbed her pen against the notepad, her eyes begging. "Okay. I feel a little silly, but… Lieutenant Ryder, let Rayhanah go!" To her shock, a gust of cold air rushed by her, causing her to shiver. She glanced at Ray, who shook her head, breathing hard. She took a deep breath and, pretending she was about to raise a little hell with her boys, said, "Lieutenant Ryder, I don't know what your problem is, but you let go of Rayhanah right this instant! If you want help, which I can fully understand, given your situation, there are other, better, ways of doing it, rather than hurting someone who could possibly help you! Let Rayhanah go, _now!_" Just like before, there was a cold breeze, and then Ray collapsed against Loretta. "Did he let you go?" Loretta demanded. Ray nodded tiredly. "Good. Good. Now, what in the blazes just happened? Rayhanah, are you a seer?" Still unable to talk for some reason, Ray stared at Loretta, then nodded reluctantly. "Did Lieutenant Ryder inflict his pain on you? Is that why you're having trouble talking?" Ray nodded. "Why would he do that?" Ray shrugged. "Does Christoper know about your gift?" Ray shook her head vehemently and started writing on the notepad.

"_NOTHING GOOD ever comes from my so-called gift but TROUBLE. I like Chris, A LOT, and every time some guy has found out about what I can do, they RUN. Been that way my whole life. Friends, Ma, dates, NOTHING but TROUBLE! PLEASE don't tell Chris! PLEASE!_"

Loretta didn't say anything because she didn't know what to say. Instead, she got up and started making Ray a cup of tea. As she got the pot boiling, she watched the younger woman, who seemed to curl up on herself. She also noticed something else; Ray was refusing to look into the courtyard that led to the interrogation and communications room. It was as if she could see something she didn't like.

"You know," Loretta said, hoping she sounded casual conversation-like, "this place has seen a lot of things over the years. Some of it good, some of it not good. Things like that, leaves a mark."

Ray nodded slowly. "_I know_," she wrote. "_Keep seeing somebody in full tac gear holding his hand and screaming; missing his fingers_," she wrote.

"Ah, that. Well, without going into too much detail, that did actually happen here," Loretta said, carefully pouring the now-hot water into a mug she had prepped with a teabag. "Thanks to that little incident, though, we did catch some bad guys."

"_Good. What about the guy in Trutone? Mustache, beard, suit, pissed, and burned?_" Ray wrote.

"Burned? As in set on fire or?" Loretta asked. Ray shook her head and mimed an explosion. "Ah, that. You could be referring to a gentleman who was caught in an explosion Pride caused when someone tried to jump him at his bar, around the time of Hamilton and his merry crew."

"_He's not happy, and I can see the scars on the building, even though Pride did a really good job of repairing the place_," Ray wrote.

She accepted the mug Loretta handed her and took a careful sip. Loretta joined her on the floor, her own cup of tea in hand. "So you can see the dead and echoes of the past," Loretta realized.

Ray nodded reluctantly. "What did you mean about your mother?"

"Used to hit me every time I tried to tell her what I was seeing or feeling," Ray mumbled, the pain in her mouth and head finally starting to ease off. "I was a freak, and she hated me. Didn't find out until years later that Geema also had the same ability, and Ma hated her just as much."

"So you learned to hide your gift," Loretta realized.

Ray nodded. "They don't leave me alone. I get nightmares from people I can't help, and I can see where there's been a deadly accident. I try to ignore them, but sometimes, people like Ryder, they won't leave me alone."

"Are you Kritanta? The one who's been calling us with those tips, with the altered voice and all that?"

"Is that what you guys call me?"

"It's what Dwayne Pride calls you."

"Why?"

Curious, Loretta looked up the name. "Kritanta is a unisex name for an Indian god of death," she read from her phone, through Google. "Makes sense. The only time you ever call is to deliver a message about death."

Ray grunted tiredly. "I have a feeling Ryder won't leave me alone until he gets me to tell your friends whatever it is he wants them to know."

"If he does tell you anything else, let me know. I may be able to help you help them," Loretta said. "You're already doing a pretty good job with your phone, but Patton is nothing if not determined."

"You think he'll find me sooner or later," Ray guessed.

"I do. I also think you need a friend who's willing to listen to you. You have a gift, Rayhanah, no matter what your mother may have said, and since she didn't like you very much, well then, we have to fix that, starting now."

"What do you mean?"

"You have a new mother, and trust me, I am very good at that," Loretta said, giving Ray a tight hug.

Ray didn't quite know what to do or say about that, but she did admit Loretta's hug felt good.

"I like Chris, a lot, because I feel safe around him," she admitted. "When he holds me, or touches me, I feel balanced. I won't hurt him, not deliberately, I swear."

"Good to know, good to know, because I think the boy likes you a lot too. He rarely, if ever, brings his girlfriends here."

"Well, to be fair, I didn't give him much of a choice," Ray admitted, grinning.

"I didn't hear him complaining," Loretta said, chuckling. "In fact, judging by the smile he had on his face when he brought you here, he was very happy."

"That might have had something to do with the smooch I laid on him earlier," Ray admitted, sniggering.

"That it might," Loretta said, laughing.

"Told him we were going to have to go inside or we were going to find out just how much room my caddy had for a makeout session."

"You have a Cadillac? What model?"

"1962 Deville, removable hardtop. Got it from Aunt May. Hackers can't screw with it because it's not seventy-five percent computer, like most vehicles are these days, and I love the trunk space, which is great when I go hunting."

"Girl, you and I are going for a drive as soon as possible. There's nothing I love more than a well-cared for Cadillac.""

"Deal. Promise me you won't tell Chris. I know he's your friend and all that, but please, not yet. I just, I just want to savor things for a while, before they blow up in my face again."

"Oh sugar," Loretta said, rubbing her shoulders. "Okay. As much as I don't like keeping secrets from Christopher or the rest of the group, I will keep your secret, for now. But if I think, for an instant, that your life, or their lives, are in danger because of something you know, then I will say something. And that is a promise," she said, coming to a decision.

"Then let's hope it never comes to that."

Morning came, and with it a new development.

The team had gone over to Lieutenant Ryder's apartment with the intention of tearing it apart at the seams, when Chris had looked up and discovered they had a visitor, who was standing in the doorway of the apartment. With the way the visitor was dressed, he'd instinctively reached for his gun and trained it on their new visitor, who was dressed all in black. Gloves with knuckle guards, runners with velcro straps, black sweatpants, black hoodie with the hood up, and a Kylo Ren mask that completely covered the person's face. What the hoodie couldn't hide, the mask and a black bandana tucked around around the neck did.

"Who the hell are you?" Chris demanded, seeing his friends joining him out of the corner of his eye, their weapons out.

The person didn't respond, but held up both hands, palms out, and did a slow turn, showing no visible weapons. "Fine, you're not armed. Who are you and what do you want?" Chris demanded again.

"The lieutenant wants you to know something," Kylo Ren said, voice garbled.

"What?" Tammy snapped.

"Six steps from the door, you will find a panel in the floor," Kylo Ren said. "The memory stick in his dog tags wasn't the only one he had. He was obsessed with photography. Your killer is in those photos."

"How do you know?" Sebastian demanded.

"They speak, I listen," Kylo Ren said. "I am no threat to you, but your killer is a threat, and the lieutenant is not the first victim of this killer."

"Why should we believe you?" Hannah demanded. "You won't even show your face. For all we know, you could be the killer."

Kylo Ren said nothing, tilting his head slightly. Then he moved slowly, in measured steps, from the door. As they watched, he took six steps forward, and suddenly brought his foot down, hard. There was a _click_, and a floorboard in the floor moved, going up slightly. Then Kylo Ren backed off, hands still visible.

Sebastian, knowing he was covered by his friends, holstered his gun and quickly went after the board, lifting it up. His eyes went wide. "Wow," he said, reaching in to pull out a portable hard drive. "Any idea what's on this?" he asked, pulling out a second portable hard drive.

"He had an obsession with people," Kylo Ren said. "It was an unhealthy obsession, and he knew it, so he chose to hide it. The last file with the last date has your answer."

"Are these password protected?" Sebastian asked.

"No. He felt no need for it," Kylo Ren said. "His computer is over there."

"Password protected," Sebastian said.

Again, Kylo Ren tilted his head, as if listening to something. Then, moving slowly as if to avoid any sudden moves, he went over to the computer and switched it on.

"You know the password?" Tammy asked sarcastically.

"Like I said, I know a lot of things," Kylo Ren said, picking up two pens. When the password prompt came on, he moved so Sebastian could see what he was typing. "Remember this, because I won't repeat it."

Sebastian watched carefully as Kylo Ren hit a series of keys with the pens, including the Shift key.

"And we're in," he said in amazement.

"And my part here is done," Kylo Ren said.

"No, it's not," Hannah said. "You're coming with us and we are going to have a proper conversation."

"No, we are not," Kylo Ren said, stepping away from the computer. Then, as if he knew Chris was right behind him, his elbow shot back, slamming it into Chris' face, snapping his head back and sending him reeling. Then the same arm that had elbowed Chris shot forward, catching Sebastian with a hard punch, sending him tumbling, never letting go of the pens in his hands.

Hannah and Tammy made a grab for him and he went under, dodging out of their way. When Tammy got a grip on his arm, she was rewarded with a stab with the pen to her forearm, causing her to yelp in pain, followed by a straight punch. Hannah received a vicious kick to the stomach that sent her tumbling over the nearby coffee table.

Then Kylo Ren yanked the hanging lamp down from the ceiling, punched Tammy again, wrapped the lamp chain around her neck, turned, and sent the woman over his shoulder to hit the floor with a painful thud.

When Sebastian took a swing at him, he ducked the punch, feinted one of his own, which caused Sebastian to bring his arms up, only to lay him down with a kick to the groin. Predictably, he doubled over in pain, and his face met an unforgiving knee, which sent him up and back. Chris made a grab and got slapped by a heavy book Kylo Ren had pulled off a nearby bookcase. Said book also brought him down to the floor with a head slap.

Again, Hannah tried and before she was even there, she was sent reeling with a right hook. Then Kylo Ren dove for the kitchen, vaulted over the small table in a move that reminded Chris of parkour tricks, yanked open the fridge and pulled out two glass bottles of beer by their necks. Both bottles were winged straight at the team, causing them to duck as the glass exploded in foaming liquid and glass, which was strange in itself, as neither bottle actually hit anything. Then Kylo Ren was out the door.

"Get back here!" Chris yelled, giving pursuit, Tammy and Hannah right behind him. Sebastian opted to remain behind, partially to secure the scene and partially because he swore his gonads were in his throat.

"Damn, that hurt," he moaned, holding himself. Then, "This apartment is freezing. That's strange."

Kirtanta could run, the team realized, and was as agile as hell, vaulting over the back fence like nobody's business, and leading them straight to an abandoned warehouse. He clearly seemed to know his way around because he vanished quickly into the darkness of the warehouse.

"This place is creepy as hell," Tammy mumbled, bringing her light out and holding it against her gun, just like Chris and Hannah were doing.

"Proceed slowly and carefully," Hannah instructed.

They proceeded to sweep the warehouse carefully, but in the dim light, it was hard to see much of anything. It wasn't until they got to the second floor that a passing light caught him.

"There!" Chris yelled, giving chase.

Kylo Ren ran, darting behind some old barrels that were stacked along one wall, and shoving them over. They crashed to the floor, narrowly missing the team, but giving Kylo Ren time to get away. Chris was able to dodge the barrels, and chased after Kylo Ren across a catwalk. It was when he was half-way across that he realized just how much danger he was in.

The catwalk was made of, and bolted together with, metal, metal that was rusting away and not as strong as it had been in years past. Kylo Ren's movements had aggravated the bolts holding it to the ceiling, but when it was quickly followed by Chris's pounding footsteps, the metal couldn't take the strain anymore.

Screeching, the catwalk started to pull away from the ceiling, causing everyone, even Kylo Ren to freeze in horror. The catwalk stopped moving when Chris stopped moving.

"Put your gun and light away and move slowly and carefully," Kylo Ren said, coming back slowly.

Chris gulped, and nodded, doing as he was told, his heart pounding. He knew that one wrong move and he would go crashing to the floor below, and from the looks of the equipment below, it would not be a very nice landing.

"Careful," Kylo Ren said, as Chris grabbed the catwalk rails and moved slowly and carefully. "No sudden moves."

"No kidding," Chris mumbled.

Close, so close, he thought. He was near the edge when, for whatever reason, with a frightening, ear piercing screech, the catwalk gave away.

"Jump!" Kylo Ren yelled, as the catwalk started falling.

Chris didn't have to be told twice; he was already lunging.

And then he was falling.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Chris was falling. The old catwalk had finally given away, and Chris, in a desperate act, was lunging across the rapidly widening space.

His upper chest slammed into the floor, but because there was no purchase, or anything for him to grab, he started sliding back. Somewhere, in the distance, he heard Tammy and Hannah yelling his name.

He let out a yell of his own, certain he was going to fall to his death, when he felt hands grab him by his armpits, halting his fall. He looked up; it was Kylo Ren, and he had a grip on Chis.

"Please, Lord," Chris heard Kylo Ren mumble. "Not today. Grab on to me!"

Desperate, Chris grabbed on to Kylo Ren with both hands and, together, they struggled to pull him up over the edge, with Kylo Ren letting with one hand long enough to grab the nearby metal railing that was bolted to the floor, which helped anchor them. Together, both breathing hard, they managed to get his chest, then his stomach, his hips, and finally his legs, over the edge.

Panting, Chris scrambled away from the edge of the floor, desperate to get away before he fell again. Kylo Ren seemed to have the same idea, because he was pulling Chris away from the edge, before scrambling out of his reach.

"Thanks," Chris said, still breathing hard, as they stared at each other from their respective distances.

Kylo Ren nodded. "Listen, and listen good. I am sorry I hurt you and your friends, but I said I wasn't going with you and I meant it."

"I'm willing to forgive you, but I don't think my new girlfriend is going to be too happy with her new guy already having a busted face," Chris groused.

"She might surprise you," Kylo Ren said. "Believe me when I say I am on your side. I am not your killer, just a messenger. Death may surround me, but I'm just the messenger. I will help you where I can, when I can, but please, don't try and figure out who I am."

"Why not?" Chris demanded. "What are you hiding? Who are you protecting?"

"I am protecting my right to a normal life," Kylo said, sounding like he was begging. "I don't want to see or hear the things that I do, but sometimes, they won't leave me alone."

"You're saying you a psychic," Chris said.

"Which I hate being, but…"

"You'll try and help," Chris guessed.

"If I can, and only if I'm certain about what I'm being told."

"Christopher!" Tammy yelled. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" he yelled back, never taking his eyes off Kylo Ren, who was on his feet and backing up slowly. Groaning, Chris got to his feet.

"Please, let me go. If Lieutenant Ryder has anything more to tell me, I will call you and I will tell you," Kylo Ren begged. "I give you my word."

"Can you prove to me you weren't involved in his death?" Chris demanded.

"Yes. Check the video from the mall. Lieutenant Ryder was not driving his car when it was driven to the mall. He was murdered when he was getting into his car, from his apartment. He had his hand on the door handle when he felt pain explode in his head. There is a video camera in the area of the walkway," Kylo Ren said.

Chris put his hands on his hips, and thought, hard. Then, taking a chance, he reached for his wallet and removed one of his business cards. He put it on a nearby work table, one that was rusting as badly as the rest of the equipment around them, and backed off.

"I'm taking a chance here," he said. "A big one."

"You won't regret it," Kylo Ren said. "Thank you." He darted forward, grabbed the card, and then disappeared into the darkness of the building, just as Tammy and Hannah joined him.

"Chris!" Hannah yelled.

"Here!" he called, taking out his flashlight and flashing it around. He quickly spotted the two women and joined them. Tammy gave him a rib-cracking hug, which he was quite happy to accept.

"Are you okay? Where did our suspect go?" Hannah demanded, flashing her light around.

"I'm okay, thanks to our suspect, but he's gone," Chris said. "Said he could prove he didn't kill Lieutenant Ryder because he was murdered outside of his apartment, before he got in the car, and that there was a camera in the area of the apartment walkway."

"Okay, we'll get Patton and Sebastian to check it out," Hannah said. "This place is way too dangerous to keep searching."

"I agree. Let's get out of here and see what was on that drive that Ryder was so determined to hide," Chris said.

"Good idea. I need a drink and some aspirin," Tammy groused. "This place is creepy."

Chris grinned at her. "Would you believe he apologized for hurting us? When he said no, he meant no."

"Really? You know what I'd like to know? How the hell those beer bottles exploded without hitting anything," Tammy demanded.

"He did admit he was psychic, abet reluctantly," Chris said, as they made their way out of the building. "Maybe Ryder gave him a hand with things." He groaned softly, rubbing his chest. He was sure he was going to have a few bruises and scrapes for the next few days, which could prove interesting if he and Ray ever got a third date.

"Not funny," Tammy groused. If there was one thing she hated more than anything, it was ghosts, and her friends knew it.

Back at the apartment, Sebastian had some news for them. The last file with the last date on it did have some interesting photos.

"Charles Manson if he was from India," Tammy muttered, staring at the man in the nondescript suit with long black hair and matching beard and mustache.

"What Ray said," Chris said.

"And it looks like he was following Lieutenant Ryder for a few days," Sebastian said, "judging by the dates."

"And not the only one this joker was following," Chris said, recognizing a figure with a certain mop of blonde curls. "Looks like she decided to go rave style that day."

"You recognize the woman?" Hannah asked.

"I'm dating her," Chris said, grinning.

"Ray," Hannah realized.

"First date, she told me her closet was as colorful as her language when she got mad, and she loves the bright colors of rave clothing. Seems there's this one website she's a regular customer of," Chris said. "I'll give her a call, see if this is the weirdo she mentioned."

"What about the building camera?" Hannah asked Sebastian.

"Already spoke to the landlord, who is putting a rush on that video," Sebastian said. He groaned softly, rubbing his head. "Can someone please check my bag; I think there's a large bottle of ibuprofen in there somewhere."

"You do know what happened was pretty mild," Tammy said, grinning at him.

"If you call a guy getting his testicles sent to his tonsils mild, I hate to see what you call major," Sebastian grumbled.

Across the room, they could hear Chris talking quietly.

"Hey Pretty Lady, where are you?" he asked. "Got something I need to show you."

"_Hopefully something good_," Ray said.

"Depends on what you define as good. We may have a suspect and it looks like it was the guy who was hassling you about your eyes," Chris said.

"_Oh, that charming fellow_," Ray said. "_Well, I'll tell you what; as soon as I get back from my run, and grab a shower, I will meet you at NCIS_."

"How about I meet you at your apartment?" he asked.

There was a soft chuckle, and Ray's voice dropped to a sexy whisper that caused blood to rush to a certain part of his anatomy. "_Cutie, as much as I would love to let you wash my back, my shower is also my bathtub, and if you want to get back to NCIS at a decent time, my personal fantasies with you are going to have to wait a bit, because trust me when I say you would not be getting out of my apartment for at least several hours, and that's a promise._"

Chris swallowed hard at the images that came to his mind. "I'll meet you at NCIS."

Ray chuckled softly again. "_That sounds like a mighty fine idea, cutie. See you in a bit._" And she ended the call.

Chris stared at his phone. "Woman's going to be trouble," he muttered to himself. _And maybe that's not such a bad thing_, he thought, grinning to himself.

A few blocks down, Loretta looked at Ray with a smirk. "If that boy's blood pressure is not through the roof with what you just laid on him, he has a serious problem."

Ray grinned, leaning against her car, where Loretta was sitting in the driver's seat. "I learned the fine art of phone sex a long time ago, Momma. It was one of my jobs in high school, and trust me, I was good. Didn't like it, but it got me the cash I needed to get the hella outta town."

She had removed her mask, hoodie, gloves, and sweatpants, revealing snug running pants, and pink running jacket. As Loretta watched, she removed a pair of running shoes from the trunk of her car and quickly changed her shoes.

"Now, I owe you breakfast and I need to get my cute little tail home so I can grab my shower and get rid of the stench of Kritanta," Ray said, shutting the trunk of her car, and hoping into the passenger seat.

"You're damn right you owe me breakfast," Loretta muttered, turning the engine of the car on. "But letting me drive this sweet thing is a good start."

About an hour later, Ray showed up at NCIS, and once again, Chris was sure he'd swallowed his tongue. Ray had sashayed in, wearing a rainbow fishnet bodystocking that showed off every sweet curve, with black frayed shorts, a pink metallic crop tank, and black combat boots. Her hair was piled up on top of her head in a cascade of curls and held in place with glittering hairpins and a rainbow hair tie that trailed down her back. The glittering hairpins matched her earrings, which swung as she walked. On one shoulder was a metallic rainbow quilted crossbody bag, and she was tucking a pair of polarized sunglasses into the neck of her top.

"Wow," Tammy said, eyes wide, nursing a cup of coffee and a sore arm. "Chris was right; your wardrobe is colorful."

"The best part of my job," Ray said, grinning at her. "This is my Wanna Play But Gotta Work outfit, and if you have eyes on that nutter that was giving me grief over my baby blues, then I'm not going to be playing very nice at all."

"You mean that nutter?" Chris asked, pointing to the plasma, where the so-called nutter was on screen.

Ray glanced at the screen and her lips, painted a bright, glossy pink, twisted into a sneer. "That's the nutter. He got a name?"

"Not yet, but we're running facial rec now," Chris said.

"Good to know, and _ouch!_" Ray said, wincing in sympathy as she came closer and saw the welt on his face. "Who hit you?"

"Unfortunately, a suspect's elbow," Chris admitted, looping his arm around Ray's slender waist. "Fellow got in a few good shots to the rest of the team, including a kick to Sebastian that dropped him."

"Oooh," Ray said, wincing. "Sounds like you had a fun morning. Did you catch the suspect?"

"Not this time," Chris said. "Next time, maybe. Did manage to get some good pictures of the nutter off of our victim's flash drive, which is why we called you."

"And here I thought you wanted me to feed you again," Ray teased. She threw a glance at her watch and winced. "But guess what I gotta do?"

"Open up the store?" Chris asked.

"Yup."

"I wouldn't recommend it," Sebastian said, coming into the bullpen, concern on his face. "Facial recognition just kicked back a name, and I am highly recommending you stay with us, or have someone with you who has a gun."

"That bad?" Hannah asked, joining them.

"His name is Remi Simoneaux, and he's trouble," Sebastian said, pointing the clicker at the flatscreen. A mugshot of the man in question popped up. "He's known to NOPD for stalking and harassing a number of people, mostly over their body parts or something he claims they can do, and he's got a lot of TRO's against him, plus numerous charges of trespassing and breach of recognizance from violating the conditions of the TRO's. Claims he's some kind of high voodoo priest, and is very powerful, dark magic and all that. I left a message with one of the detectives who've investigated him, and I'm waiting on a call back. Several of his victims have disappeared or been found murdered, with their bodies either burned beyond recognition except by DNA or dental testing, or too badly decomposed and eaten by local wildlife for Loretta, or any other coroner for that matter, to be able to determine cause of death, and those that have been found, where it could be determined, have had parts missing." He threw up some crime scene photos of several victims. "Just like Lieutenant Ryder."

"And you think the two are connected," Hannah said.

"I don't like coincidences," Sebastian said. "And so far, this is the best lead we've got, especially since the camera outside of Lieutenant Ryder's apartment cleared Kritanta and made Remi Simoneaux our new suspect." He pushed a button on the clicker again, and a screen shot popped up, showing Remi Simoneaux following Lieutenant Ryder to his car, which was parked out of view of the camera. What was interesting was the way Remi Simoneaux was holding one hand behind his back.

"He was also the guy who dropped off the car in the mall parking lot," Patton said, coming into the bullpen "Finally got a decent view of this guy." He toggled a button on his tablet and a video came up on the flatscreen. As the group watched, two cars drove into the parking lot. Remi got out of Lieutenant Ryder's car, and removed the plastic that had been on the seat. It was clear he was wearing a hairnet, booties, and gloves, which explained the lack of trace in the car. Then he got in the second car, where the driver couldn't be seen clearly, and drove off. "I did manage to get a plate from that car, and it belongs to this lady." He threw up an image of a woman with a bright headscarf on the screen. "Meet Dana Brown."

"Ha!" Ray yelped, recognizing the woman. "That's Mama Bathilde; she runs a little tea shop about two blocks from City Hall. Claims she's descended from a long line of voodoo high priestess and can tell you your future within about thirty seconds of meeting you, based on what tea you order."

"Did she try that with you?" Hannah asked.

"First time she met me, two days after I took my new job at City Hall, I ordered a cup of chamomile and lemon tea and a tea biscuit. She tried to say I would be married and dead within the year because I was going to cross paths with someone who was tall, dark, and deadly," Ray said. "Saw her about two weeks ago and cheerfully asked her when I was going to meet Tall, Dark, and Deadly, because it's been about six years and I'm still very much alive and unmarried. Oh, and when I ordered a particular iced tea, she claimed my choice said I was too powerful for any man to want anything to do with me. I laughed my way out of the store. Good iced tea, though."

"You were too powerful? What the heck did she mean by that?" Chris asked.

"Dunno, but shortly afterwards, Nutter Number One showed up, going on about my eyes," Ray said. "Now, I really need to get the store open. I'm expecting a big shipment in today and I was going to call an alarm company about getting some cameras set up, and unless you guys have some actual proof that this moron is dangerous to me, I am going to go do my job."

"Keep us on speed-dial," Chris said, letting Ray go reluctantly.

"Count on it," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and sashaying out of the building.

"That woman is trouble with a capital T," Chris said, chuckling as he shook his head.

"You're right about that," Sebastian said. "Dana Brown's got a couple of charges of fraud and trespassing against her as well. And Ray was right; her store website claims her name is Mama Bathilde and she's descended from a long line of voodoo high priestesses, born and raised in New Orleans, and will read you your fortune for a fee."

"So far those two are our best leads. Find them," Hannah said.

"What about Ray? If Remi Simoneaux went after Lieutenant Ryder because he was a good communicator, and clearly believes Ray can see something, he may go after her," Chris said.

"Which is why Sebastian is going in as an alarm company to set up a camera in her store," Hannah said. "Take Ray out for a lunch date and pay attention to what goes on around her. In the meantime, let's start looking into these other victims, find out what they have in common."

"Pride might know someone who might know a bit more about this joker," Chris said. "Not the first time we've tangled with the voodoo community, and if this guy's killing people in the name of black magic, someone may know something."

Hannah nodded. "Call him and update him."

As Ray drove away, she struggled to calm her racing heart. She really hadn't meant to hurt Chris or his friends, but when she said no, she meant it. Ryder had helped a bit by whispering things to her, and he had made the beer bottles explode. But Chris nearly falling like that, that was going to haunt her for a long time.

"Damn you, Ryder. You just couldn't leave me alone, could you?" she whispered harshly, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Was she going to lose Chris before she even really had a chance to get to know him? Was history going to repeat itself, again? _God, I hope not. I am so tired of this, so tired of the nightmares._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ray stared at Sebastian so coldly he swore the room dropped a few degrees. She could rival Tammy for her _Are You Freaking Kidding Me Right Now_ look, Sebastian thought, swallowing hard.

"You're the alarm company that I haven't yet called?" she hissed in a low voice, planting both hands on the counter and leaning forward.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, swallowing hard, watching as one of her nails, a dark metallic red, started doing a rapid tattoo against the counter.

"And what happens when Baron Mordo is finally caught?" she hissed.

"The cameras stay, but we stay out of the system, unless we think you're in trouble," he said, recognizing the reference to Dr. Strange's villainous counterpart.

"How much is this going to set me back? I had a hella time convincing Miles to even approve getting a damn security system in the store in the first place!"

"What kind of alarm system?" Sebastian asked.

"Doors and windows kinda thing. Can't have motion sensors, thanks to Mary, who's been known to get active at night," Ray explained.

Sebastian swallowed hard. "Okay, umm, the camera system won't cost you anything, and I'll show you how it's set up. I can even have it set up so it goes to your phone, seeing how you're the manager and all."

"Oh, hi!" said a young woman, coming to join them from the back. With her dark brown hair pulled in two curling pigtails, she was wearing a pretty long sleeve red and black ruffled Gothic Lolita dress that was definitely not out of place in the store. She smiled shyly at Sebastian, who flashed her an awkward smile, causing her to giggle.

"Suzy, this is a representative from the alarm company I called," Ray said, glaring at him. "He's going to install some cameras in the store because PD is concerned there might be trouble from some of our customers, especially during Mardi Gras, and they want to be able to say 'Gotcha' when someone does give us trouble."

"Yay!" Suzy said happily, bouncing on her heels.

Ray stared at her. "Am I missing something?" she asked.

Suzy nodded sheepishly. "Remember Donnie?"

"You broke up with him," Ray guessed.

"And he didn't take it too well. I've been getting all kinds of threatening messages from him over it, and with violence against women going up, I kinda want a bit more security," Suzy admitted.

"We'll make sure you get that," Sebastian promised, already thinking of making a call to Patton and running a background on this Donnie. "I can even set up an app on your phone that lets us know exactly where you are in real time, at the push of a button. Has he caused problems before?"

"He is a problem," Ray groused. "She showed up one too many times with bruises on her arms that I know damn well didn't come from 'falling'. I need her, preferably in one piece, and I don't need his caveman attitude." She sighed heavily, rubbing her brow, and thinking hard. Trusting her gut, she came to a decision. "Suzy, you're the closest thing I have to an assistant manager, and I trust you, so I'm gonna be straight with you. This is Agent Sebastian Lund, from NCIS. You remember that Indian Charles Manson that showed up a little while ago?"

"Mister Major Creeper?" Suzy nodded, shivering and rubbing her arms.

"His name is Remi Simoneaux and he's a suspect in a murder investigation," Ray explained. "There's some concern that he may come back here again, and since I won't go into protective custody, they're setting up a camera to keep an eye on things here."

"But we will also keep an eye out for Donnie," Sebastian said. "Because you're an employee, you're under the same protection, so if Donnie tries something dumb, we can help you stop him."

Suzy grabbed a pen that looked like flower (he thought it was, until she pulled it out of the pot) and quickly scribbled down some information on a purple cupcake post-it note. "This is everything I know about him. I've blocked him from my phone, Twitter, and Facebook account, and my roommate is aware of the situation. Her name is Jaz Cameron and she's an MMA fighter, and she's studying criminology. Wants to become a cop."

"Good for her," Sebastian said, accepting the slip of paper.

"Okay, Sebastian, where do you want the cameras?" Ray asked tiredly. She could already feel a headache coming on, and threw a glance around the room, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, either in this world, or the next. So far. "Suzy, if you're done with the shipment check, hand me the paperwork, and you can advise Sebastian where the best for the cameras would be, as well as anything else he needs. I'm gonna go get some coffee and do some computer work. Let me know if you need anything."

And Ray headed for the back, where the kitchen presumably was.

"I think you just got a promotion," Sebastian said, looking at Suzy.

"Yay!"

"Do you know about Mary?" Sebastian asked.

Suzy grinned at him. "Yup! She's the reason I love this place! I get to work in a bonafide haunted store, and that's not something a lot of other stores can honestly say."

Sebastian felt the blood drain from his face, which Suzy didn't seem to notice as she led the way to a framed photograph that was placed on the wall next to a vintage rocking chair and table, which, for some odd reason, had a pretty porcelain tea cup, saucer, and plate. The tea cup had what looked like tea in it, and there was even a little tea biscuit on the plate. Someone had even placed a comfy pillow and shawl in the chair, and there was even a lamp next to the chair. The whole thing looked as if someone had simply gotten up for a moment and would be back for their tea.

The photograph was a black and white 1900's photograph, showing a woman in black clothing, looking dignified, but Sebastian swore there was the slightest trace of a smirk on the woman's face.

"That's Mary?" Sebastian asked.

"Mary Freeman. Born, raised, and died here," Suzy said. "Records say she had one son and two daughters. The son was declared missing during World War One, when the merchant ship he was on sank. One daughter died during childbirth, along with the baby, and the other daughter was likely the victim of domestic violence, because her death certificate says she died of severe trauma to the face and head, and her autopsy photos showed bruises all over the body. Her hubby remarried less than a month later, and that woman died from the same thing about a year later."

"Charming fellow," Sebastian said, scowling. "What about Mary's husband?"

"Charles. He had a heart attack about ten years before she passed on," Suzy said. She shrugged. "I'm glad Mary's here; she can be a lot of fun, and we've had some interesting conversations."

"Conversations, how? Do you actually hear her?" Sebastian asked, as he followed Suzy to the back of the store, where the internet hub was, for the building.

"No, but I get feelings, and sometimes her chair moves, or we'll get the sudden smell of magnolias. Plus, she likes to play games with us once in a while, hide things on us, or move things." Suzy shrugged, smiling. "Anyway, this is our internet hub, as well as our breaker. We have a computer in the office, which is that way, and the one up front. I would imagine Ray has one in her apartment, which is upstairs, and accessible by those stairs, but we don't go up there unless she invites us, or it's an absolute emergency."

"And if it is?" Sebastian asked, following Suzy around.

"Then there's a code for the lock, which I have," Suzy said. "It's one of those keyless entry locks that Ray can mess with on her phone."

"Okay," Sebastian said. He glanced around, formulating a plan as to where he was going to put the cameras. "Okay, I am going to set up the cameras in a couple of locations, and if you can give me access to your terminal, I can set it up so you can record with the touch of a button. Is there any area in particular you think we should cover, besides the obvious?"

"Could you cover the chair? It can be a bit hard to see from the front desk, and sometimes we have visitors trying to sit in or touch the stuff there, and Mary gets a bit crabby about it, even though there's a Not For Sale and Don't Touch sign," Suzy said.

"I can do that," Sebastian said. "I'll grab my gear."

Suzy smiled. "Cool."

Across town, Chris, Hannah, and Tammy were checking out an address registered to Remi Simoneaux. It was in an old, worn-out part of New Orleans that had been hit hard by Hurricane Katrina, and never fully recovered.

"Are you sure this is it?" Tammy asked, looking at the diapilated building. There were two floors, with all the windows boarded up, and a front porch that looked as if one might fall through it with one tiny footstep. "Place looks creepy as hell."

"GPS says it is," Hannah said. "And if this Remi Simoneaux is the kind of person practicing blood or black magic, he's going to want to stay off the radar, and this area is a good place to do it without being seen."

"Good way to move bodies, too," Chris said, getting out of the car.

"Someone's here," Hannah said, pointing to a truck parked in the driveway. It was a blue Seventh Generation Ford F-series that had so much rust and so many dings and dents and cracks that they would have been surprised if the vehicle even turned over, never mind actually moved.

"Plate matches what we have on file for Remi Simoneaux," Tammy said.

"Somebody's home," Hannah said. "If this guy's as big a nutcase as we're hearing about, we proceed with caution. Chris, go around the back, just in case he runs. I've already had one suspect escape; I'm really not in the mood for a second one to escape today."

"I hear ya," Chris said, feeling a brief guilty twinge about the little white lie he'd told them earlier. Yeah, letting Kritanta escape may not have been smart, but for now he needed the psychic on their side, if he was a genuine one.

As he moved behind the house, trying to move carefully with the tall weeds and assorted junk around the house, he felt his phone buzz, signalling a call. It was a local number, but not one he recognized, and there was no name.

"LaSalle," he said, answering the call quietly.

"_Be careful_," Kritanta said, cutting to the chase. "_The house you're at, Ryder says there's a dark presence there, one that could potentially harm you and your friends_."

"Is Remi Simoneaux here?" Chris asked.

"_No, but there is evidence in the house that will help your case, especially on the second floor. Do not, under any circumstances, go into the room at the far end of the hall unless you are very familiar with black magic. Be careful and watch where you step. Not everything is as it seems._" And with that, Kritanta hung up, and Chris swallowed hard, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He quickly called Hannah. "Just got a tip from a source that says Remi Simoneaux isn't here, but to be real careful about the house. Something about some serious black magic here."

"_Understood,_" Hannah said, before ending the call.

He cautiously peered into the window of the door that seemed to lead to a covered porch, and opened the door carefully. On the surface, the house looked like any other diapilated house in that area, but a quick look inside the kitchen windows told a different story. The walls and floors had been repaired, and there was furniture there, like couches and chairs and tables in the kitchen and living room. There was even dishes and food in the kitchen that suggested someone was living there.

"First floor looks clean," Tammy said, joining him. "But because he's not here, we can't enter without a warrant."

"What's that?" Hannah asked, pointing to one corner of the living room, where it looked like some kind of altar had been set up.

"Some kind of altar," Chris said. "Probably for show, if this guy's anything to go by."

Tammy stared hard at a set of stairs hidden behind some beaded curtains that were at least two or three rows thick. Something about those stairs had her putting her hand on her gun and unstrapping it.

"You too, huh?" Chris said, reaching for his.

"Something about those stairs is giving me the creeps," Tammy admitted, giving the place a dirty look.

"We need to see what's on the second floor," Hannah said.

"Might be able to without going inside," Chris said, leaving the porch and looking around outside. "We can't go inside, but there's nothing that says we can't look inside from outside. And I just spotted a ladder."

"Be careful," Tammy said.

"Always," Chris said.

As he climbed the ladder to the window on the second floor, he noticed something that made him real nervous; dried blood streaks on the window sill.

"We got any cotton swabs in the car?" he called down. "I got blood up here."

"Grabbing," Tammy said, heading back to the car, while Chris took out his phone and quickly snapped some pictures.

Then, working carefully, he got the window open, which opened surprisingly easy. Or maybe not, he thought, as he pushed the curtains away enough so he could peer into the room. What he saw made him shiver. There were obscure symbols on the floor, dozens of unlit candles, writings on the wall, and an altar at one end of the room that looked like it was stained with blood, and covered with things he didn't understand. Then he spotted something that made his blood run cold; it was a pair of eyes floating in a glass jar. Hanging along one wall were a series of knives and machetes that also looked like they were stained with blood.

Working fast, he snapped as many pictures as he could, before letting go of the curtains, and doing his best to put them back the way he found them. Then he shut the window and climbed down to rejoin Hannah and Tammy, who handed him a pair of gloves and a cotton swab for blood collecting. "I don't know what's going on up in that room, but I don't like it one bit," he said, showing them the photos. While the two women scrolled through the photos, he went back up with the gloves on, and quickly swabbed the blood.

"Let's get out of here before this joker gets back," he said, climbing down and handing Tammy the sealed swab.

"If that blood matches our victim, we can get a warrant," Hannah said, helping Chris put the ladder back where they had found it.

"Hopefully NOPD finds him soon," Chris said. "If he goes after Ray, there's going to be a problem."

"Don't you have a date with her this afternoon?" Tammy asked, as they headed back to the car.

"I do, and I think I know what I'm going to do," Chris said. "Seems she loves a good sweet pink moscato wine, and there's a restaurant that I know of that has a pretty good wine menu. I'll call her once we get back on the road."

But when he called Ray, he discovered a problem.

"_I don't know what the hell hit me, but I got a hella migraine that's threatening to take my head off at my neck_," Ray said, sounding like she was close to tears.

"Oh damn. Have you taken anything?"

"_I was going to, until I realized I'm out of the stuff I usually use, and right now, the extra strength Advil just isn't cutting it_," Ray said.

"What do you usually use?"

"_Excedrin Migraine_."

"I'm on my way." When Ray tried to protest, he cut in gently. "No, you looked after us last night. Now, it's my turn to look after you, and I know a thing or two about pain and headaches. I'll be there shortly."

Ray sighed tiredly. "_Okay. I hurt too much to argue with you, anyway, so count yourself lucky. Talk to Sebastian. He knows where to find me_." She ended the call.

"Ray's got a migraine, so I'm going to go check on Sebastian and pamper Ray a bit. If I'm with her, technically she's under protective custody," Chris explained.

"We'll drop you off," Hannah said.

"Need a drug store, though. She's out of the stuff she usually uses, and her extra strength Advil ain't cutting it," Chris said.

"That's bad," Tammy said, wincing.

Half an hour later, Chris was quietly entering the apartment that was at the top of the stairs that Suzy had directed him to. She was a nice girl who was very worried about her boss. It seemed, and he got this confirmed by Sebastian, who was still in a state of shock, that the office door, a swinging kitchen-style door, had suddenly been flung open with a bang, and a gust of cold air had blasted past both of them, while they had been in the front of the store. Then, both Sebastian and Suzy had gotten the sudden feeling that something was very wrong, and gone into the office, to find Ray on the floor, holding her head in agony, and trying not to throw up. She had refused an ambulance, and instead, with help from Sebastian, gone upstairs to her apartment, after repeatedly assuring them she would be okay.

Remembering the access code Suzy had told him, Chris entered it into the keyless entry lock, and was rewarded with a _click_. He glanced up, seeing the camera that Sebastian had installed, and waved.

Then he entered the darkened apartment. The doors leading to the balcony had the drapes pulled across, and so did every window in the apartment, which wasn't very big, but it looked nice. The kitchen, dining room area, and living room were all in the same area, with an island in the kitchen that compensated for the lack of counter space. The kitchen also had had a huge white vintage farmhouse apron sink with an industrial kitchen faucet sprayer. The fridge and stove were both powder blue, and the whole kitchen looked like something right out of Leave It To Beaver or I Love Lucy. Her dining room table was a picnic bench made from reclaimed scaffolding material, and the same went for the bookcases that lined the wall, going around her t.v. and entertainment system. The bookcases were filled with books of varying subjects, and knick knacks. Her couch was some kind of wire, metal, and wood thing, with thick cushions covered in blankets, and had shelves underneath and on the corner; not surprisingly, it matched the rest of the decor and was probably easy to get up the stairs. Her coffee table was, again no surprise, made from reclaimed scaffolding material. From what he could see, so far, the apartment was a charming mix of old and new, but he hadn't seen the bedroom yet, or any sign of Ray.

Moving quietly, he headed for the bedroom, which was down a hallway decorated with candle wall sconces of varying styles, he spotted the bathroom, and his eyes went a bit wide at the sight of the huge cast iron bathtub. Then there was the darkened bedroom, and peering inside, he spotted Ray buried under a huge denim quilt, a gel eye mask on her face. The bed, less than a foot up off the floor, looked like it was a king and, once again, made from reclaimed scaffolding materials.

She cracked an eye open when he sat down on the bed, and he grew concerned when he saw how pale she was, and how red her eyes were from her tears.

"Hey," he said, gently brushing her hair out of her face.

"Hi," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"That bad?"

"That bad."

He removed a bottle of pills from the bag he'd brought with him and showed it to her. "Thanks," she said. She watched as he went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, before coming back and helping her take two of the pills.

"How's the stomach?" he asked.

"Tilt-a-whirl at full speed."

"Thought so. A friend of King's recommended some ginger and lemon black tea. The caffeine will help ease the pressure, and the ginger will help the stomach."

"Kettle's in the kitchen, and there's honey in one of the cupboards somewhere."

He gave her a gentle kiss on her temple. "Be right back."

"Okay."

When he got back with the mug of tea, she was almost out again, but stirred long enough to try and sit up and drink the tea, with him helping her sit up. "Different," she said, sipping carefully.

He took off his shoes and got under the quilt, which was surprisingly heavy, and she snuggled against him, laying against his chest. He discovered she'd changed her clothes to an oversized grey Alabama University, and what he hoped like hell were sleep shorts, because her legs were bare.

"Couple of questions," he said.

"Okay."

"Why is the bed so low to the floor?"

"I get nightmares sometimes, especially when I'm stressed out, and I've been known to fall out of bed when I wake up suddenly," she explained. "Same thing when I wake up abruptly, for whatever reason. Had more than my fair share of busted noses and head over it."

"Okay. Next question. Why is the blanket so heavy?"

"It's a weighted blanket, and it helps me sleep better, faster, and deeper, because I feel like I'm being hugged. If I have anything light on me, I toss and turn."

"Huh. You get these headaches often?"

"Once in a while. I'll be okay in a bit, once the Excedrin kicks in."

"No hurry. We're just waiting on some stuff from the lab, and there's a BOLO out on both Remi Simoneaux and Dana Brown. Patton's doing a deep dive on both, and Sebastian's waiting on a call-back on a detective, so right now, things are just at the waiting stage," he said.

"And let me guess; because Joker's been seen around me, you're keeping me safe," she said.

He grinned at her. "You say that like that's a bad thing."

"You're going to be saying a lot worse if you spend the night and Mary decides to check in on us," she grumbled. "And yes, she has been known to do that. Sent one guy running one night."

"What'd she do?"

"Seemed to decide she didn't like Trevor. He got up in the middle of the night, after passing out on my couch (he liked to drink), to go to the bathroom or something, and she did a full body apparition on him. Scared him so badly he peed his pants. What made him madder was that I refused to exorcize Mary, and he tried the whole me-or-Mary stunt."

Chris nodded. "And since he's not here, and Mary still is, I know which one you chose."

"No big loss. Like I said, the guy liked to drink, and refused to see the trouble he was headed for," Ray said.

"Those are the worst kind."

Ray went quiet for a bit. "Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"No matter what happens after this, this, right now, is gonna stick for a long time."

"Haven't had much luck with us guys, have you?"

"No."

"No promises, but I'm the kinda guy who likes to stick around."

_We'll see about that_, she thought, snuggling closer to Chris, who tucked her head under his chin. _I'll bet you anything you like, you'll go running the moment you find out about Mercury, and all the crap that goes with it. You'll run. Everyone always does._

_But Loretta hasn't_, another voice whispered.

_Not yet_, she reminded the voice, as she drifted off to the pain-free world of sleep. _It's just a matter of time_.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dwayne took off his sunglasses as he entered the little shop that was tucked away amid various other shops on one of the dozens of little streets in an older part of New Orleans. He smiled as he let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the store, and smiled even wider when he saw the little woman come around the counter, breathing in the rich smell of herbs and spices.

"Marie, how are you?" he asked, accepting the hug from the woman, who wore brightly colored cloths around her head and body. The lines on her face were deep, and he was sure he saw a few grey hairs peeking out from under her headwrap, but the brightness of her eyes were just as bright as ever.

"As well as well can be, old friend," Marie said, patting his face with one weathered hand. "You are looking well, I'm glad to see. You still carry a weight, but you are doing better."

"I'm trying. Not always easy these days, especially being the Special Agent in Charge of our New Orleans office," he said, smiling.

"Of course, of course. What do you want to know?"

He grinned at her. "What makes you think I want to know anything?"

"Because," Marie said, her skirts swishing as she headed back behind her counter, "the only time you ever show up here is when you need to know something about vodou, or you suspect that your latest case may be connected to it."

Dwayne chuckled. "Remi Simoneaux. He's a suspect in a murder investigation, and my victim is missing his lower jaw and vocal chords," he explained. "We have evidence that says Remi Simoneaux was seen in the same area of my victim, just before he was murdered, and several other people have disappeared after being harassed by Remi Simoneaux over their various body parts, including a woman who's a friend of one of my agents."

Marie scowled at the name. "I know of Remi, and he is trouble. He calls himself a houngan asogwe, a high priest, but he's never been properly ordained, and the only people he serves are ones with money," she said, fiddling with things on her counter. His magic is very, very dark."

"Is he a bokor, a sorcerer?" Dwayne asked.

"And a dangerous one at that," Marie said, nodding her head. "Your friend, what is her name?"

"Rayhanah Metcalf. She manages a small antique glassware store. Remi Simoneaux offered to buy her eyes because he claimed she was a seer."

Marie nodded. "Curly sun-colored hair, eyes the color of aquamarine?"

"You know her?"

"I've heard of her, and Remi is right; she is a seer, and she sees and hears the dead."

"She's psychic?" Dwayne asked, eyebrows going up.

"And not willingly, if I'm hearing right. She denies her gift, but one day, King, one day that's going to implode on her in ways she can't imagine," Marie said, starting to bustle around the store, which contained shelf upon shelf of herbs, objects, and jars of all kinds of things, everything one might need in the practice of vodou. The store had a rich, earthy smell that Dwayne had always loved.

"Chrisopher likes her, a lot," Dwayne said. "I don't want to see him get hurt, and I don't want Ray to become one of Remi Simoneaux's victims."

"She will tell your friend about her gift, when she's ready, and if she feels he can be trusted with what she considers a burden," Marie said.

"Is there anything I can do, for both of them?"

"I can give you something to give to Rayhanah that will give her some protection from the darkness, and I will let others know about the danger," Marie said. "We may be able to do something on our end, if Rayhanah is willing to fight."

"I'll talk to her," Dwayne said. "If she is psychic, then she may be connected to someone else I know, someone who has a habit of calling me about victims who haven't yet been found."

While he waited for Marie to do whatever it was she was doing in the back, he called Chris.

"A friend who's a mambo, a female vodou priestess, she knows of Remi Simoneaux, and says he's trouble. He's a bokor, a sorcerer who deals with black magic, and if he's targeted Ray for whatever reason, he could be trouble," he said.

"_Great. Bad enough we have to deal with the usual thieves, liars, and murderers. Now we have to deal with a murdering sorcerer?_" Chris grumbled, keeping his voice low.

Dwayne chuckled softly. "How is she?"

"_She's in real rough shape right now; migraine. She's resting, and she knows about our concerns about Remi Simoneaux going after her. I'll stay with her for the night, until we can find this joker and bring him in_."

"Good idea. Have you heard from Hannah or Tammy?"

"_Not yet. Talked to Sebastian, though. He's got the cameras set up, so if Remi Simoneaux or Dana Brown tires to come here, we'll know about it_."

"Good. I'll stop by in a bit. My friend has something for Ray that may help her, and we'll go from there."

"_Say hello to Suzy. She's Ray's assistant manager and Sebastian says her ex is trouble waiting to happen. He could be a problem if he decides to come after Suzy at the store_." There was a noise in the background, and Chris laughed. "_That was Ray. She said, to quote Deadpool, never underestimate the stupidity of idiots._"

Dwayne chuckled. "I hear ya, brother, I hear ya. I'll let you know when I'm there."

Across town, Hannah and Tammy were at _Mystical Teas,_ which was owned by Dana Brown, otherwise known as Mama Bathilde, which was a combination of tea shop and cafe. The shop tried to come off as being mystical and mysterious, but for the two women, it just came across as being fake, right down to the bored-looking, college-age, tea girl behind the counter, who was doing the one thing Tammy hated; snapping her gum.

"Where's your boss?" Hannah asked, both women showing their badges.

"One moment," the girl said in a bored tone of voice. She headed for the back, and emerged a moment later, with Dana Brown, whose long brown hair was done in a multitude of braids and beads, and wore clothes that looked like a mix of gypsy and bohemian clothing.

Dana's eyes lit up when she saw the two women. "Ah! Guests! Welcome, welcome! I am Mama Bathilde. How may I be of service to you?" she asked, approaching them eagerly.

Hannah held up her phone and showed Dana a file photo of Remi Simoneaux. "Do you know this man?"

"May I ask why?" Dana asked, not even glancing at the picture.

"Someone we know said you know him, and we'd like to have a word with him," Hannah said.

"Again, why?" Dana asked, starting to scowl.

Hannah tilted her head and studied the woman for a moment. "We'd like to have a word with him, and we'd also like to have a word with you about why your car was seen picking him up at a location where he was seen dropping off someone else's car."

Dana smiled brightly, but Tammy could see that it was a fake smile. "I'm afraid I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

Tammy looked at Hannah and smiled brightly. "You know, with her car being on video, we do have enough to arrest her for accessory to car theft."

"That's right, we do," Hannah said, reaching behind her back and pulling out a pair of handcuffs, smiling just as brightly, watching Dana swallow hard.

"I'm betting, and I love a good bet, that if we check her car, we'll find Remi Simoneaux's fingerprints in the car, which means she's busted for aiding and abetting a murderer," Tammy said thoughtfully.

"We'll have the car impounded," Hannah said.

"You can't do this," Dana protested, backing away, her hands up.

"Actually, yes, we can," Hannah said. "You're a suspect in a murder investiagation, and you were seen in the company of a suspected murderer, helping him get rid of evidence in a murder investigation, and we have a witness who says you approached one of our victims before Remi Simoneaux did, which is strange, because everyone that man appraches and starts following or harassing, they all have something in common; they're all dead and missing their body parts."

Dana swallowed hard. "I have nothing to say to you. You can't hurt me, and I won't go with you; you can't make me. You need to leave my store right now."

Both women held up their badges. "If you won't come with us willingly, we will have you charged with obstruction of justice," Tammy said.

"I am a mambo, a high priestess! You cannot harm me!" Dana snapped, waving her hands.

"You are nothing in the eyes of the law," Hannah shot back. "We ran a background on you; you're not a mambo, you're a fraud. You don't scare me in the slightest, but your friend, Remi Simoneaux, he gives me some serious cause for concern, because innocent people have been known to disappear around him, and he's been seen around both my victim and my witness."

"You have no proof, no evidence!" Dana snapped.

"Wrong. Here's the thing, Dana (my name is Mama Bathilde!) if we find out you've been helping him with killing his victims, we will charge you with accessory to murder, and that's no threat; that's a promise," Hannah said.

"One thing I've noticed about guys like him," Tammy said thoughtfully, turning slightly, as if to have a more private conversation with Hannah. "Once they're at the top of their little ladder, or whatever it is they're standing on, they will do absolutely anything to stay up there, and people like her, or anyone else he considers beneath him, they're disposable. I wonder what will happen when he finds out she's been talking to us."

"Good point," Hannah said, playing along. "We could be looking at another victim, if he doesn't decide to toss her in the waters with the crocs."

"You're crazy; he would never harm me!" Dana snapped, glaring at them.

"Ah, so she admits to knowing him," Hannah said, smiling widely.

"There's your obstruction of justice," Tammy said cheerfully.

"Let's go; you're coming with us," Hannah said, jingling her cuffs.

"You can't do this to me! This is police brutality!" Dana yelped as both Tammy and Hannah grabbed her, forcing her hands behind her back.

"We're not the police," Hannah reminded her, snapping the cuffs on. "We're federal agents, and you're interfering in our investigation."

"Let's go, lady," Tammy said.

"Meghan, call my lawyer!" Dana shrieked at the girl behind the counter.

"Please do," Tammy said, cheerfully, to the teenager, who was watching the whole thing with wide eyes. "And while you're at it, you might want to close the shop for the day. Oh, and you might want to find her car keys, because we're taking her car."

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Meghan said, cracking her gum again. "But, uh, do I get paid for this?" she called as the trio left the little shop.

An hour later, they had more answers, but were still no closer to finding Remi Simoneaux. Back at the lab, Sebastian and Tammy made short work of the Dana Brown's car, finding prints that matched Remi Simoneaux. The fibres they'd found in Lieutenant Ryder's car were a match to a blanket found in the back of Dana Brown's car, a blanket that happened to have several of Lieutenant Ryder's hairs in them.

As for Dana Brown, she had stubbornly exercised her right to remain silent. The lawyer part? Turned out she didn't have one. Instead, she refused to even speak or look at Hannah. When Hannah left the room and went to the observation room to watch her, she closed her eyes and started chanting something.

Patton joined her. "How you making out?" he asked.

"I'm getting nothing out of her," Hannah admitted. "She won't say anything, won't even acknowledge my presence. We do have her for obstruction of justice, and you have her phone, so that's a start."

"And I have some good news about that. Got a hit on a frequent number, and that number belongs to none other than Remi Simoneaux," Patton said, showing her his tablet.

"Can you locate him?"

"Not right now, because the phone is off, but I can tell you where he's been, or at least the area he's been in, based on the cell towers that got pinged."

"Okay, show me," Hannah said, following Patton to his computer lab.

"These are the cell towers that got pinged," Patton said, showing her the screen with the map of New Orleans and various circles representing the area of the cell towers.

"That's the address of Dana Brown's shop," Hannah said, pointing to one of the towers. "This one is in the same area as Lieutenant Ryder's apartment. Where is _Haddy's Glassware_?"

"Right here," Patton said, pointing to another address, which was in the circle of one of the cell towers. "Here's the kicker. I cross-checked the addresses of our suspected victims against where Remi Simoneaux's cell has been and guess what? He pops up in every one of them. I even compared to where some of the bodies were found, and again, he pops up in the area."

"That can't be a coincidence," Hannah said. "We need to find this guy and fast. Did Sebastian ever hear back from the detective investigating Remi Simoneaux?"

"He did, and trust me, Detective Valdez wants this guy as badly as we do. His problem is this guy seems to have a few people in the NOPD in his pockets, or he's real good at manipulating the law, because just when he thinks he's close to getting this guy, the guy walks away."

"Damn. Okay, I'm going to call him up and invite him over. If we can figure out who's who around Remi Simoneaux, maybe we can figure out how to get to him before he gets to Ray, or anyone else for that matter."

"And fast," Pride said, coming into the room. "Been doing some leg work and chatting with some friends of mine. Word on the streets, among the vodou community, is the same; Remi Simoneaux is as dangerous as he is powerful, and if he gets his hands on Ray, there's no telling what could happen."

"We have Dana Brown here, but she's refusing to talk," Hannah said.

"No surprise there; she believes her magic will protect her," Pride explained.

"Is there a way to undermine that? Maybe the best way to get through to her is to use her beliefs against her," Hannah said.

"How? Unless you can get one of those voodoo gods to talk to her and convince her to turn on Remi Simoneaux, it may be too late," Patton said.

Pride stared at him thoughtfully. "You know, maybe we can. Wouldn't be the first time we've done something like that."

"Can one of your friends do something?" Hannah asked thoughtfully, seeing where both men were going with this.

"I can call and ask, and explain the situation," Pride said. "I know this might not fall under the category of normal investigation methods, but sometimes we do what we have to do."

"Well, this whole case has been nuts from the get-go, so I'm willing to try something new," Hannah said.

"I'll make some calls," Pride said, getting out his phone.

Tammy and Sebastian appeared. "We tore that woman's shop apart," Tammy explained.

"She had an altar, just like we saw at Remi Simoneaux's place, and just as creepy, and we found blood."

"Mostly animal, but there was some human," Sebastian said. "It's back at the lab and there's a priority rush order on it. On the other hand, we got the preliminary results back from the blood Chris found on the window ledge; human, and blood type matches Lieutenant Ryder."

"Call Detective Valdez, ask him if he wants in on the party," Hannah said.

"Oh hell," Patton said, seeing something on one of the cameras that were set up in Ray's store. "Guys, hold that thought and get over to the store, _now._ Suzy's ex just showed up, and he's got a gun. I can't tell if it's real or fake, but-"

"Where is Suzy?" Hannah demanded.

"She bolted upstairs the second she saw Donnie, and Chris is up there with Ray," Patton said. "He just waved at the camera flashed his phone; looks like he's calling NOPD."

The background check on Donnie had revealed domestic violence assault charges that had been repeatedly dropped, as well as several DUI's. A check of his account had shown he'd recently withdrawn a lot of cash, and that was cause for concern. It was the same with his recent Facebook posts, where he'd made several threatening posts towards Suzy over her breaking up with him. He currently held no job, and what jobs he'd had were with various construction companies throughout the city, sporadic, and never very lasting long. The longest had been about six months, until he'd been arrested for drunk driving with the company truck. A phone call to one of the construction company foremans resulted in him being described as initially a hard worker with a buddy-buddy attitude, until he started showing up drunk or hungover. Despite several warnings, Donnie hadn't cleaned up his act and, in fact, had gotten worse, becoming agonistic and aggressive, and, at one point, gotten involved in a scuffle with a few other people who had seniority over him. That incident had resulted in him being blacklisted throughout the construction industry, and, just like with Suzy, his Facebook posts had been explosive and filled with cuss words and threats towards said construction company.

A background check on Suzy showed a hardworking young woman with a love of life, animals, antiques, the paranormal, and Gothic Lolita fashion. Initially being supportive towards Donnie, things had changed when he'd started abusing her. Four months into the relationship, she'd dumped him, coinciding with what she'd told both Sebastian and Ray, and had made it very plain in a recent post that she had dumped Donnie because of his possessiveness and physical abuse towards her, and she wanted no further contact with him. The resulting comments from her friends had been primarily positive and supportive, but Donnie had exploded, and the language he'd used against her, and anyone supporting her, had been vulgar, crude, and, in some cases, frightening.

"Let Christopher know we're on our way," Pride said, tearing after his team.

And back at the shop, in the apartment, Ray woke up.

Someone was whispering urgently to her, and it wasn't Chris.

The good news was, her headache was gone. The bad news was, she wasn't alone, and trouble was right there with her.

She could hear Chris and Suzy talking in the main room,their voices low enough for her not to be able to make out what was being said, but she already knew what was going on.

Donnie was in the store, and he had a gun.

Ray picked up her phone and toggled it. Before she'd been hit by the migraine, Sebastian had installed an app on her phone that connected her to the cameras downstairs. She had also shown him her apps for the store's lighting, alarm, and music system.

Moving quickly, she pulled on a pair of black leggings over her lacy boyshorts that she knew Chris hadn't known she'd been wearing, (she hadn't been expecting him and was in too much pain to try caring about how he might react), a favorite pair of black socks, and black Skechers runners with red laces.

Thanks to Mary, there were things she knew about the store that no one else knew about. Yes, she was taking a big risk, but this was her store, Suzy was her staff, and Donnie had picked on the wrong person for the last time.

And if Chris didn't like that, well, he just had to make sure the door didn't hit him on the way out.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Hey Google, play my Dance Mix playlist in the store, and increase the volume to my dance level preference," Ray said, coming into the living room, having pulled her hair back into a scrunchie.

"Playing your Dance Mix, volume increased to dance level preference," came a British-sounding woman's voice.

"What the hell, Ray?" Chris demanded, as the floor suddenly started vibrating.

She held up a finger, heading for the apartment door. "Hey Google, lower store lights to seventy-five percent, and turn on air conditioning. Lower air conditioning temp to five degrees below normal."

"Ray, what are you doing?" Chris demanded.

"Screwing with a guy's head and buying some time for NOPD to show up, which I'm assuming you two have already called," Ray said as Google confirmed her commands. "I'm not arguing with you, Chris," seeing him open his mouth to say something. "This is my store, Suzy is my staff member, and I know things about this place that would make you colder than my air conditioning and Mary going through you. Donnie knows who I am, and you have cameras on me. I either go down there and keep him busy, or he's going to start shooting, and these floors and walls aren't that thick."

"I don't like this," Chris said, putting his hands on his hips.

"And I think you're cute, and very, very sweet, but right now, I really don't care," Ray shot back, leaving the apartment. The lock clicked shut a moment later.

Chris stared at the door in frustration, and saw Suzy shaking her head. "I wouldn't try arguing with her, sir. She knows things," she explained.

"Then she should know that nutcase has a gun and she doesn't," Chris shot back, hoping like hell his friends would get there first. And once this was over, he was going to kiss her and strangle her, but he didn't know in which order.

"I know. I also know my roomate, Jaz, is on her way, and he hates her because she hates him," Suzy admitted, pulling out her phone and switching the camera app on, which had been installed thanks to Sebastian, due to her promotion to Assistant Manager. "Looks like she's got _La Bamba _on, with the way she's moving."

"She do that much?" Chris asked.

"First song I heard when I first met her," Suzy admitted.

"Where do those doors go?" Chris asked, referring to the balcony doors.

"Fire escape to down stairs. It's basically a separate entrance for here, and Ray's car is parked nearby. I love that thing."

"You been in it?"

"Ray took me with her to an estate sale once, with the top off, and once we hit the highway, I felt like I was in an Elvis Presley movie," Suzy said, watching her phone. "Ray, he's getting mad."

"What's he doing?" Chris asked, not liking the way Donnie was gesturing. "If he starts shooting…"

"I don't even want to think about it," Suzy mumbled, chewing on one of her knuckles.

Ray said something, Donnie replied, and she shrugged, heading for the kitchen. And Chris's chimed, signalling a message.

"_ETA on backup?_" Ray asked.

"_Another five. NOPD alerted. Be careful!_" Chris sent back.

"_Always._"

"I don't like this," Chris said, scowling.

"Better get used to it. Ray kinda does her own thing," Suzy admitted.

"_Have Suzy check on Little Lady and her babies please. Food is near the doors_," Ray suddenly texted.

"Who's Little Lady?" Chris asked.

"A stray who's been hanging around. She's got a couple of babies and I think Ray's trying to convince her to come in. Her babies are about four, maybe five weeks old and they are so cute," Suzy said, heading for a bin that was near the porch doors. After carefully peeking outside, she opened the doors and grabbed a heavy-duty cat food dish that was on the porch. She refilled the dish, while Chris kept an eye on the cameras.

Ray was back in the main part of the store, cradling what looked like a cup of hot tea or coffee, leading Chris to ask Suzy, "Is Ray a coffee or tea drinker?"

"Both, depending on her mood," Suzy said. "If it's first thing in the morning, she's a three-cups-in-one hour, screw-with-her-first-cup-at-your-own-risk person. If it's later, she's a tea drinker. If it's in the evening, she'll mix something with her tea, but I haven't really seen her have the hard stuff straight up, on the two occasions she took me out to a bar for my birthday."

"That was nice of her," Chris said. "I don't know what she's saying to him, but he's not waving the gun around. Still pretty jumpy though."

"That might be because of Mary. He doesn't believe in ghosts, but gets real jumpy when Mary decides to start messing around with the lights and the air conditioning."

"Which Ray can mess around with on her phone," Chris realized.

Flashing lights outside of the store, by the fire escape caught their attention, letting them know the police had arrived, cutting their sirens as so not to alert Donnie.

Chris went out to the balcony and quickly caught up to them, showing them the cameras on Suzy's phone.

"She's delayed him as best as she could, and so far he hasn't done anything stupid, but that could change any second, once he sees you," Chris quickly explained. "Guy's got a history of domestic violence and alcohol-related charges."

"Can we get in there without being seen?" one officer asked.

"Doors are unlocked, and I can get her to keep him away from the back hallway," Chris said, sending Ray a fast text. He watched as she covertedly read the message, and then moved farther into the store, Donnie chasing after her, starting to wave the gun around.

"Done and done, but he's getting agitated," Chris said, removing his weapon and carefully opening the back door. "She's got a front counter that's pretty thick."

When Ray saw them quietly coming through the hallway, she winked, and reached behind her for a thick purple wine bottle. "Hey Donnie, want some good news or bad news?" she asked casually.

"What?" Donnie snapped, glaring at her.

Ray knew he had a headache from the loud music, which was currently _Never Thought I'd Fall In Love With You_ by Billy Ray Cyrus. Her playing dumb to the cool temperatures and low lighting in the store hadn't helped, making him doubt his sanity, and even Mary had helped, by knocking a few bottles off the counters and rocking her chair.

"The good news is, you're about to find out where Suzy is. The bad news, you're going to have to deal with NOPD's finest first." And she pointed to the group behind her front desk, their weapons out.

"Donnie Chapman, drop the gun and get your hands up!" Chris yelled, as Donnie spun around.

Before he could bring his gun up, Ray swung her bottle at his gun shoulder, where his collar bone was, shattering the bottle in an explosion of glass and causing him to drop the gun. He yelled in pain, and Ray dove out of the way.

Before NOPD could get to him, though, he took off running towards the front door. Slamming it open, he slammed into another officer, who hit the ground hard, before taking off down the street. He didn't get far when, without warning, a woman in gym clothes and handwraps appeared from around the corner, and clotheslined Donnie so hard both his feet left the ground, in a move that would have made Ronda Rousey, a top female MMA fighter, proud. He hit the ground with a bone-rattling _THUD _that left him stunned and breathless. Before he could even comprehend what had just happened, the woman had flipped Donnie over on his chest, and had both hands behind his back, sitting on his waist. "Somebody cuff this loser!" she yelled.

"Nice clothesline. You're Jaz Cameron?" Chris asked the young woman, as NOPD took over Donnie, who was still badly stunned, allowing her to get up.

"I am," Jaz said, shaking offered Chris's hand.

"Suzy said you want to become a cop," Chris said.

"No," Dwayne said, joining them, having caught the tail end of the rush. "No, anyone who can tackle someone like that, you belong to us," Dwayne said, also shaking Jaz's hand. "Special Agent Dwayne Pride, Special Agent in Charge of the New Orleans office of NCIS," he said. "When you're ready, give me a call and I will give you a boost." He glanced at Chris. "How's Ray?"

"She's fine, but I'm trying to decide if I'm going to kiss her or strangle her," Chris said.

"Kiss her, for now, until we catch Remi Simoneaux," Hannah said, joining them on their way back to the store. "Then, by all means, strangle her. That was brave but stupid; Donnie could have shot her. And _wow_," she said, as they entered the store, seeing what was being offered.

Ray grinned at her from her position on the floor; she was making sure to get all the broken pieces of glass. The air conditioning had been turned off and the store lighting was back up to normal. Even the music was down to background noise levels.

"Welcome to _Haddy's, _Hannah," Ray said. "If it's glass, porcelain, or china, chances are we'll have it. If you look up, you'll find lamps, and they've all been checked over by a certified electrician, so they all work."

Hannah groaned. "I would love to, but we have a suspect back at NCIS, and we need to get cracking at her. I promise you, though, I will be back."

"Have fun," Ray said. "And hello Mr. Thompson," she said, turning on the charm at the man who had just walked into the store. He practically screamed money, and raised an eyebrow when he saw the police officers and NCIS agents.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Metcalf?" Mr. Thompson asked.

"Not anymore," Ray said.

"Ray was assisting us in helping us catch a suspect," Hannah said, showing the man her badge. "Special Agent Khoury, NCIS. Thanks for your help, Ray. We'll let you know if you need anything."

"Lunch, for starters, but one thing at a time," Ray said cheerfully, straightening up, dustpan and broom in hand. "In the meantime, Mr. Thompson, I believe there was some glassware you were interested in?"

While Ray took care of her client, the NCIS team regrouped.

"Okay, we have Dana Brown in custody," Hannah said. "She's not talking, but Dwayne suggested we use her religion against her; make her think one of the gods came for a visit."

"Freaky, but possible," Sebastian said. "Blood type matches Lieutenant Ryder, but we're still waiting on DNA confirmation. If we can get that, maybe we can get a warrant for Remi Simoneaux's place."

"And there was blood in Dana Brown's place; human," Tammy said.

"Those are back at the lab, being tested," Sebastian said.

"Patton said Remi Simoneaux's phone has definitely been in the same area as our victim, as well as several other suspected victims," Hannah said. "We get that warrant, we tear his place apart."

"Were you able to confirm that Remi Simoneaux was following Lieutenant Ryder?" Chris asked.

"Yeah; he was in several photos Lieutenant Ryder took, and several of them looked like they were shot over his shoulder, like this," Sebastian said, taking out his cellphone and demonstrating.

"What about Ray?" Chris asked.

"Other than the ones we originally found, no," Sebastian said. "We can confirm that Remi Simoneaux and Dana Brown do know each other, though, because Lieutenant Ryder got a photo of the two of them talking."

"And Patton called, just before we got here; Detective Valdez heard about what was going on, and is currently at NCIS with all of his files on Remi Simoneaux," Hannah said. "We need to head back. Chris, you're on guard duty. I don't trust Remi Simoneaux to go after Ray with all the commotion going on."

"Sounds good, but I'm going to need some gear if this keeps up," Chris said.

"Go," Dwayne said. "I'll stay with Ray until you get back." Doing so would give him time to talk to Ray in private.

Twenty minutes later, Mr. Thompson was gone, having dropped a sizeable amount of money, with a promise of more if Ray continued to find the items he needed for a house and office he was renovating. Suzy, at Ray's insistence, was gone for lunch with Jaz, which left the store, finally, blissfully quiet.

"I spoke to a friend of mine," Dwayne said, following Ray into the store kitchen. "She said you're a seer."

Ray froze. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, starting to make a fresh pot of coffee.

"Marie is a priestess in vodou, and I trust this woman. She knows her stuff, and she's afraid that the more you deny your gift, the more it's going to implode on you in ways that could be devastating," Dwayne said. He had to be careful, because he knew that if he pushed too hard, Ray could shut down, or shut them out, and possibly hurt Chris.

"Not going to happen, because I'm not some freak like that," she said firmly.

"I never said you were a freak," Dwayne said.

"It doesn't matter. And even if I was a so-called seer, so what? Nothing good ever comes of it, especially around me, because people always run."

"Not me," Dwayne said. "If you have a gift ("More like a damn curse", Ray muttered) and you're real, then I'm willing to believe you. You're not a freak, and I won't run."

"What about Chris? Do you really think he wants a girlfriend who wakes up in the middle of the night screaming because some dead _somebody_ decided to show her exactly how they died? That migraine I had earlier? That was brought on because Chris and your buddies went to Remi's house, and all eight of his victims let me know _exactly _how they died," Ray hissed. "And then Donnie's grandfather showed up."

"And he talked to you. That's how you were able to rattle Donnie," Dwayne realized. "Look, Christopher is a good man. We've worked together for a lot of years, and I've seen the best and worst in him, but I can honestly say he's never intentionally hurt someone because they were different, except when they hurt someone he cared about. If you are what you are, and you're genuine, the only thing Chris is going to want to do is try and protect you, or help you, if he knows what you need."

"What I need?" Ray repeated. "What about what I want?"

"What do you want?" Dwayne coaxed, seeing the cracks.

Ray bit her lip. "I want to feel balanced," she blurted out. "When I wake up in the night, from the nightmares, I want to be held, to be told that I'm safe and everything is okay. I want to be able to talk about what I see and what I hear, to make jokes about it, without wondering if someone is making mental plans to call the local guys in white jackets. I want to know what it's like to be loved, regardless of what I can do, or whatever. I want," and here Ray hesitated. "I want to be able to help the ones who come to me, without having to do it in secret, or being ashamed of what I can do. I don't want to be Kritanta anymore. Mercury, yes, but not Kritanta. I want to know that the people that claim I'm their friend, aren't going to use me or leave me when things get too much to handle."

Dwayne put gentle hands on her shoulders. "You listen to me. You don't have anything to be afraid of with me, or my friends, or Chris. It may take him some adjusting, but I think he'll adapt. He's got a brother who's bipolar, and he's been both an agent and a cop for a long time. When I first met him, he was bitter and becoming angry at the world. I convinced him to come join me, and I've watched him become a good man. He cares, more than he lets on, and if you give him the chance, he'll give you all the love you need, because that's who he is."

"That's what Loretta said," Ray admitted.

"Loretta knows?" Dwayne asked.

"Ryder attacked me when I came to NCIS the first time, after Chris and everyone had left to check out the car," Ray admitted. "Loretta was there, and she got it out of me."

"And how did she take it?"

"Decided that since my mom hates me because I'm a freak, she was going to take over the roll of being my mom, and be the kind of mom I should have had," Ray said.

Dwayne chuckled, giving Ray a hug. "That sounds like Loretta."

A noise caught their attention, and it was coming from the store front. Curious, they went out there. Ray tilted her head, listening, and then nodded.

"That's Mary," she said, moving into the store. "She likes you and wants me to give you something."

"Okay," Dwayne said, curious. Then he froze, eyes going wide, as Ray picked up a tie bar from the floor, where he was sure there had been nothing before.

"Okay, Mary, I see it," Ray said, handing Dwayne the tie bar, a silver one with abalone shell detailing. She reached into the display case and pulled out a matching pair of cufflinks. "This is Mary's way of saying she likes you."

"Thank you, I think," Dwayne said, clipping the tie bar on his tie.

"She'll do that to people once in a while. I once saw her do that to a teenage girl who was looking for a gift for her grandmother but didn't know what to get her."

"What did she do?" Dwayne asked.

"Pushed this glass jewelry box towards her. It was expensive, and she was a student, but because it was a gift, I dropped the price," Ray admitted.

"That was good of you," Dwayne said.

"I like having Mary around, even if she does have a tendency to play pranks on me, like hiding my receipt book," Ray admitted.

"Was that what she did the first time we came here?" Dwayne asked.

"Yeah, that was her. That's just her way of having a little fun."

"How does it feel to be able to talk openly about her?"

Ray hesitated. "Nice."

"So don't be afraid to talk to me, or Loretta, and hopefully Chris, about what's going on," Dwayne said.

"What can you tell me about him? About what he's done, maybe where he's been?" Ray asked.

Dwayne smiled. "The first time I met Chris was during Hurricane Katrina…."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Dana was dizzy. Everything was spinning, the lights were brighter than they should have been, or they were flickering, she didn't know.

Marie, a fellow vodou practitioner, had offered her a cup of tea while they waited for a lawyer. But there must've been something in that tea. Maybe. Because Marie had also been drinking teas, and she was fine. Chanting quietly, but she was fine.

Then the lights went out, and Dana jumped. Marie didn't even flinch. In fact, she didn't even seem to notice that something was wrong.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and someone in a top hat and cane walked into the room, fog rolling behind them. Lights flickered behind him, and she swore she heard howling.

Dana blinked, unsure of what she was seeing. It was a man. Maybe. Someone with a skull face, his hair in dreads, and a cane with a skull on it, holding a cigar in one hand.

"Who are you?" Dana demanded.

The stranger chuckled, tugging on his tugging on his tail coat jacket, revealing a muscular black chest.

"Oh, you know who I am, woman," the man said, grinning at her, red eyes glittering with glee.

"You and me, we gotta talk, see."

A top hat, cane, and was that a dog beside him? A black one? Dana wondered. And a cigar? Was that? Could it be?

"Are you Papa Legba?" she asked, blinking owlishly.

The man chuckled again, petting the dog, who seemed to be quite content, despite the strangeness of what was going on.

"So you do know me," he said.

Dana gulped nervously.

He tapped the table with his cane. "Now, see here, woman. I ain't none too happy with you these days. You and dat Remi fella? Sending souls my way, lately, souls Remi tryna capture? No, no. No you don't, woman. Dem innocent souls, an' dat's bad enough, but den I find out you tryna go after one o' mine, one of my eyes."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dana protested.

"Lies!" the loa hissed, thumping his cane against the floor. "The souls, dey talk to me! Dey tell me of you, you and dat dark one, Remi Simoneaux! All souls come to me, Dana Brown, all! I hear de living an' I hear de dead. I hear dem, I hear der cries! And someday, someday woman, I'ma gonna hear yours, as you beg for da same mercy you dinna show others. I promise you dat."

"Remi promised me great power if I helped him!" Dana protested.

"Remi Simoneaux is a fool," Papa Legba hissed. "Tries to control what's not his to control. Takes what dinna belong to him." Then he grinned. "Oh, but Kalfu, he likes you. And Baron Samedi, dey likes you lots. Da Baron, he and Remi, when he catches up ta him, dey gonna have lotsa fun, lotsa fun with you."

Dana stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "Why are you here?" she begged.

Papa Legba grinned at her. "You tryna take one o' mine, woman, an' I don' like dat one little bit. In fact, Maman Brigitte, she got somethin' ta say about dat. Let's go meet her," he hissed, grabbing Dana and hauling her out of her chair. She screamed, but Marie didn't even react.

Was this all in her head?

Papa Legba was either very strong, or she was seriously out of her mind, because fighting him did her no good.

He hauled her out of the interrogation room and flung her to the ground in the middle of the NCIS courtyard. Fog rolled around them, lights and shadows flickered around, and out of the fog came a black rooster with a red crown, clucking. A woman in a torn black and white dress with a corset top, wild dark hair, the upper part of her face painted like a skull with dark eyes and red lipstick, and carrying a glass that had a dark liquid in it, emerged from the fog, walking barefoot. Nearby, in a fire pit, fire crackled, burning with an unearthly color.

"Hello, dahling," the woman hissed, coming up to Dana and stroking her face with one long white nail, causing Dana to flinch. "So, you're the one who's been taking my women," she continued.

"No, no I'm not, I swear," Dana begged.

"Maybe not directly, bitch, but you put them in front of Remi," the woman hissed. "You are just as guilty for their deaths as he is, and worse, because you did _nothing_ to stop him. Their souls, they cry out to me, they cry out for justice, and I hear. Oh, I hear."

Another man came out of the fog, dressed similarly to Papa Legba, but with no dreads, and a bony chest and hands, his upper face a skull with black eyes. A cigar in one hand and a glass of dark liquid in another, he grinned and planted a smooch on the woman's cheek, putting an arm around her shoulders, causing her to grin at him.

"Done skirt chasing for now, Baron?" she cooed.

"For now, Maman, but you will always be my favorite skirt to chase," the man said in a nasal voice. Then he looked at Dana and grinned even wider. "And _you_. Oh, you're a pretty little thing."

Dana shrank back in horror, and would have run, had Papa Legba still not had a grip on her arm. "She the bitch causing all this trouble?" the man asked, waving his cigar at her.

"She is. Bringing dem souls to da crossroads, giving 'em to Remi Simoneaux, letting 'im take what's not his ta take," Papa Legba said, giving Dana a shake.

"That explains my graves," Baron said. "That explains the cries I hear but cannot see."

"Please!" Dana begged. "Remi swore he'd release those souls once he had what he needed, swore he wouldn't hurt them!"

"But he did," Baron said. "When I finally do find them, they're fractured, less than whole. And sometimes, he doesn't release them at all. Remi Simoneaux, that fool, he thinks his power is great, but no. Oh no, no, no. I am Baron Samedi, and I am the _master_ of the dark arts! He is just a student, and when his time comes, I am going to have so much fun with him, just like I will with you." He grinned at her, then glanced at the woman beside him. "Wanna have some fun with her, darling? I can think of all kinds of fun we can have, especially with what I'm sure is a sweet little fruit between those long legs of hers. Gonna be so sweet, just like those tits of hers. Gonna make her scream, just like all those souls she didn't try and save."

"So much fun," Maman Brigitte said, grinning even wider.

All three started laughing, the dog howled, and Dana screamed, struggling against Papa Legba. Out of the fog, two other men, dressed like the baron, emerged, and grabbed Dana, hauling her back and throwing her in front of the baron Maman Brigitte, causing her to land on her hands and knees.

"Dey cry out," Papa Legba hissed. "Maman, let's bring them forth, all da souls she helped Remi Simoneaux take, all da souls she helped capture."

"Bring them," Maman Brigitte hissed, raising one hand dramatically. "Let's see the results of your work, child. Come forth, my children! Come forth, and receive your justice!"

And out of the fog, moaning, came eight others, covered in blood, and missing body parts. One was crawling across the floor, missing his legs, and badly burned.

Dana screamed in horror. And she screamed again when one of them separated from the crowd. He wore a white Navy uniform, and his lower mouth, throat, and the front of his chest were covered in dark blood. It was Ryder, that man that Remi had said was strong in communication, which would help him communicate with the dead, she was sure of it. He pointed at her, eyes white with death, causing Dana to scream yet again.

"Rayhannah, she's mine," Maman Brigitte hissed, crouching down in front of Dana, stroking her face with her nails. "She's mine to protect, and if you touch her, if Remi comes for her, I will surely come for _you_."

"Your soul belongs to us," Baron Samedi hissed. "And trust me, little girl, when I dig your grave, we are going to have _so much fun_."

And the three vodou deities started laughing again, backing away and letting Remi's victims approach her, their bloodied hands reaching for her, reaching to tear her apart.

And Dana screamed again, hearing Papa Legba's dog howling again, before fainting.

"Damn," said Papa Legba, who's real name was Arthur, looking at Dana's limp body. "We're _good_."

Hannah just shook her head, checking Dana's pulse. It was there, and it was steady, thankfully.

"Help me get her back into Interrogation," she said. Two of the college students, dressed as Ghedes, carefully picked up Dana's limp body and carried her back into the room, sitting her in the chair, and arranging her so it looked like she had just fallen asleep. "Will that tea wear off soon, without side effects?" she asked Marie, the friend that Dwayne had introduced them to.

"Oh yes. No worries, no worries, but she may have a bit of a headache," Marie said, leaving the room and taking both cups of tea with her. Hers had been simple chamomile and lemon. "But that's a small price to pay."

"So now what?" Tammy asked, joining them outside of the room. Hannah tried not to cringe, as Tammy had been made up like one of the victims who'd had similar hair to hers, and the student who'd done her makeup was an aspiring movie and tv makeup artist, making Tammy's 'injuries' look frighteningly real. What made things even creepier were the fact that Tammy was wearing white contact lens.

"Now we wait. We release her when she wakes up," Hannah said, "and we follow her."

"I've tagged her phone," Patton said, joining them and holding up the device. "She's not going anywhere without us knowing about it." He glanced at Tammy and his eyes went wide. "And _yikes!_"

Tammy grinned at him. "I want pictures of this," she said.

"Well, we did promise Arthur and his friends they could take pictures as part of their artist portfolio," Hannah said, "in exchange for their help and confidentiality."

Arthur was the godson of Marie, Dwayne's friend, and he and his friends, all students at a local college that were part of the drama club there, had agreed to help NCIS with the problem of convincing Dana Brown that she had been visited by various vodou deities. In exchange, the students could use the courtyard for a short video-making session as part of their artist portfolio. Tammy had been coaxed into joining the fun when it was discovered that one of the victims, a woman by the name of Jean Terrace, who's face had been skinned off, had once had long dark hair, like Tammy's. Two rookie cops, both matching the appearances of two suspected male victims, had been brought in by Detective Valdez, and Detective Valdez himself, played another 'victim'. A Navy sailor, one of Dwayne's friends from a prior case, was Ryder, and had been able to acquire a spare white uniform that could be destroyed without consequences. Three of Arthur's friends played the remaining victims, all makeup artists familiar with latex prosthetics. The deities, including Arthur, were also students familiar with the film industry, specifically the horror genre. Marie had given them the information they needed about the personalities and preferences of the three deities, Patton had worked the sounds and the lights, and Sebastian had been another victim, along with Jimmy, who had been roped in at the last minute. Another 'victim' was actually a Halloween prop that Hannah had dragged across the floor with fishing line. The dog and the rooster? The dog was a pet from one of the students, and fairly good-natured, with a trick of howling on command, and the rooster belonged to one of Marie's friends, who kept it as a pet.

Loretta was on hand in case of a medical emergency, as well as providing a critical eye for the makeup of the victims, and she had been impressed by the realism of their work.

"Okay, Arthur, tell your buddies, make it fast," Hannah said. "Sooner or later, Dana Brown is going to wake up, and we don't want to blow this."

Arthur whistled sharply. "Boys an' girls, let's play! We on da clock!"

Half an hour later, with the effects of the tea rapidly wearing off, Dana Brown left NCIS, believing Hannah when they said they were letting her go, for now. And then, she proceeded to wander all over New Orleans.

"Just how badly did we scare that woman?" Tammy wondered several hours later, having followed the woman around with Sebastian. "She's visited every cemetery in New Orleans, and a few I didn't even know about. Not to mention several coffee shops. I didn't know it was possible to knock back that much caffeine in one shot and not be a walking ping pong ball."

"And that doesn't even include the two Monster energy drinks she had," Sebastian said.

"_We could be looking at a serious caffeine overdose_," Hannah said over their phone. "_Patton said she hasn't even tried calling Remi Simoneaux, or even sending him a message._"

"_She might be paranoid,_" Detective Valdez said. "_Might know she's being watched, or at least her phone is, which could explain her wandering; she's trying to find him._"

Tammy groaned. "It's going to be a long night."

Detective Valdez had brought NCIS his files on seven suspected victims of Remi Simoneaux, which had been used as references for the earlier _American Gods_-esque episode. His files had included all of Remi Simoneaux's known haunts and a history of the man, whose given name was actually Benoy Patel. He had been born and raised in New Orleans, and his grandparents had immigrated to the United States years ago. Somewhere around high school Benoy had taken off and disappeared off the social radar until about five years ago, now calling himself Remi Simoneaux. Whoever he was, wherever he'd been, he had managed to acquire some pretty interesting friends, because whenever Detective Valdez started to close in on the dark sorcerer, he would always slip through. Witnesses either disappeared, recanted, or evidence suddenly didn't match or wasn't there anymore.

"I've been trying to get this guy for years," Valdez told Hannah and Patton.

"And you're sure it's the same guy," Hannah asked.

"Very. It may not seem like it, but all the victims had something in common; they were all skilled at something, and Remi had been seen around them shortly before they disappeared."

"And the witnesses who recanted?" Hannah asked.

"They remembered him but were suddenly too afraid to say anything. Things like curses and hexes being placed on their families," Valdez said. "I actually had to get another practitioner to help me help one family whom Remi had placed a particularly nasty curse on, just to convince them to even talk to me. Didn't fly too well with the judge, which caused the case against him to be dismissed."

"Yeah, I've seen that a few times," Hannah admitted. "According to Pride, the judges on the circuit are aware of the various religions in New Orleans, and some tend to take a dim view of vodou and Santeria as influences on behaviours or excuses. Being told about hexes and curses wouldn't go over too well."

"Well, it didn't, and the judge was not amused," Valdez admitted.

An hour later, they had a problem; Dana had disappeared, and Patton couldn't track her cell phone.

"Where the hell did she go?" Tammy snarled in frustration, trying not to stamp her feet like a child having a temper tantrum, as she and Sebastian looked up and down the street. The building Dana had ducked into led to an alleyway that was now void of life. "How can anyone move that fast?"

"She may know New Orleans better than we do," Sebastian said.

"Oh she knows something, alright. I'll bet you my last cup of coffee she knows where Remi Simoneaux is," Tammy said. "This is not good."

Dinner was bell pepper nacho boats with salsa and chips, and Chris found out Ray liked her spices. Jalapeno peppers were so what? But habanero peppers? Now you're talking. She even liked chipotle powder on her popcorn. She was very careful about that, though, as she had him laughing over a story when she'd had one date who didn't realize she had the stuff on her hands and wanted a blow job right there and then. Since she'd been planning on dumping the guy anyway, getting chipotle powder all over his nether regions sent him running in fear, especially when he found out that one of the ways to treat the burn was to put yogurt or lemon juice on it, due to the properties of capsaicin.

Despite the fact that he told himself he was supposed to be on duty and she was supposed to be under his protection, that it wasn't a date, Chris couldn't help but flirt with Ray, who didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He found out she played guitar, having done so since she was a child, as a means of escaping from her mother, and preferred country music over anything else, like Collin Raye, Vince Gill, George Strait, or John Michael Montgomery, to name a few, but didn't mind artists like Bryan Adams or Will Smith. She liked watching _Live PD_ and had seen all Marvel movies, including _Captain Marvel_, and had plans to catch _Spider-Man: Far From Home_, as well as all three _Star Trek_ movies, _Wonder Woman_, and _Godzilla: King of the Monsters_. The ones she drew the line at were the gory horror movies and sappy romcoms, which was fine by him; he'd seen enough horror in real life to be put off by horror movies for a long time. And romcoms? Yeah, not his thing either.

Ray could also sew with both a sewing machine and serger, learned mostly out of desperation when she was growing up, and taught by Gemma and Aunt May. In fact, it seemed Gemma and Aunt May had been some of the only positive things in Ray's young life, until she'd left Alabama.

Despite the threat of Remi Simoneaux looming over their heads, it was an enjoyable evening for both of them. Ray's bed turned out to be as comfortable as Chris had initially suspected, even with the heavy blanket, and it didn't take him long to fall asleep, even with Ray next to him.

But later that night, something happened, something that would later shake him to the core and leave him questioning things.

He woke up from a sound sleep to hear Ray moaning and thrashing about.

"No. No, please," she whimpered. "Please, no. No. _No!_" She bolted up, screaming, trying to fight off something he couldn't see.

When he tried to reach for her to soothe her, she screamed again and fought him instinctively, falling out of bed in her desperation to get away from him.

"Ray!" he called, trying to get through to her. "Ray, it's okay! You're safe! You're safe, it's just a dream, just a dream."

Ray stared at him, panting, eyes wide with fear, hands ready to fight. "Chris?" she panted.

"It's okay," he soothed, reaching for her. She went to him willingly, eyes still wide with terror. "You're safe."

What she said next chilled him to the bone.

"Dana's dead, Chris. Remi cut her throat and dumped her body under an overpass, like so much garbage." And she started crying, clutching at his sleep shirt, burying her face against his chest.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"_For all I'd been blessed with in this life_

_There was an emptiness in me_

_I was imprisoned by the power of gold_

_With one honest touch you set me free._

_Let the world stop turnin'_

_Let the sun stop burnin'_

_Let them tell me_

_Love's not worth going through._"

When Chris woke up, Ray wasn't there, but he could hear the sounds of someone playing softly in the living room. Was that Ray?

"_If it all falls apart_

_I will know deep in my heart_

_The only dream that mattered _

_Had come true._

_In this life I was loved by you."_

Cellphone in one hand, and gun at the ready, just in case, Chris carefully peeked into the living room. And then he was bringing up his cellphone and switching on the video.

"_For every mountain I have climbed_

_Every raging river crossed_

_You were the treasure I longed to find_

_Without your love I would be lost._

_Let the world stop turnin'_

_Let the sun stop burnin'_

_Let them tell me_

_Love's not worth going through._

_If it all falls apart_

_I will know deep in my heart_

_The only dream that mattered _

_Had come true._

_In this life I was loved by you._

_In this life I was loved by you."_

And Ray went quiet, sitting in a chair by the window, with her guitar across lap, folding her arms across the top of the guitar, and seemed to get lost in her own thoughts, staring at something he couldn't see. Chris couldn't resist; he quickly switched off the video and snapped a fast photo, which would go into his private collection, a secure collection only Patton even knew existed because he'd helped him set it up in the first place.

After her nightmare, Ray had sobbed against him for a while, before falling asleep again, and he hadn't been far behind, despite his concerns. It had been nice sharing a bed with a woman and getting some actual sleep, despite the later nightmare and the threat of Mary popping in for a visit, which Ray had teased him about earlier.

"And if she does? Then what?" he'd shot back over dinner.

"Then you tell her goodnight and good-bye," Ray said, grinning. "And if you say it forcefully enough, she's not known for coming back unless she thinks something's wrong, and if she thinks something's wrong, trust me, she'll let you know."

"Yeah? Has that ever happened?" he asked.

"Twice that I know of. Once was when someone tried to break into the store, which how I convinced Miles to install the alarm," she said.

"And the second time?" he asked.

"I was sick with the flu, and because I wasn't taking care of myself properly, she was constantly turning on the taps to make sure I drank plenty of fluids."

"Sounds like a nice lady when she wants to be," he said, popping a nacho into his mouth.

"Oh she is, she is, but when she decides to get into mischief, heaven help us all. Last time that happened, one of my ex-dates found his underwear in the store freezer, frozen solid." Chris started laughing. "Yeah, that was funny, but what was funnier was the fact that one of my cashiers, Nina, was the real jumpy type. She was the one who found the underwear when she was reaching for the ice for her iced tea. Thing was, it was frozen solid and she was a bit of an innocent; never seen a guy's undies before. Private girl's school and all that."

"How fast did she run?" he asked, grinning.

"We never saw her again. Had to send her last paycheck to her mom; seems Mary had pulled one prank too many on the poor girl," Ray said, grinning widely. "Whoops."

But that was then, and despite the temptation of what could happen once they got under the covers, Chris putting his gun under his pillow was enough to dampen the mood.

"Sooner or later," he'd promised her, "we will get him, and then we will have our time."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, cutie," she'd muttered, trying to ignore the fact that he was less than a foot away from her and had as much clothes on as she did, which was basically sleep shirt and pants (and how easy it would be for her to get that shirt off).

But that was then. This was now, and it was morning.

She must've seen him out of the corner of her eye because she glanced up, and when she saw him, she smiled.

"Morning. Hope I didn't wake you," she said, getting up and putting her guitar in it's stand, which was also her chair.

"Didn't know where you were," he admitted, following her into her kitchen, where he could smell fresh coffee brewing. "You sleep okay?"

"Other than the nightmare, I'm good." she said, pouring them coffee. She seemed quiet and withdrawn, and again he wondered if that nightmare hadn't just been a nightmare, but something else. After all, Remi seemed to think Ray was psychic. _Was she? _Wouldn't be the first time NCIS had encountered one, like that case with the murdered sailor and his pharmacist ancestor, just before Sonja had left. And if she was, how would that affect things between them? Then he wondered, was she Kritanta, or Mercury, as Kritanta had said the last time?

He laid his gun and cellphone on the counter, and wrapped his arms around her waist once she finished pouring the coffee.

"Something's wrong," he said. She shook her head, burying her face against his chest. "Ray," he coaxed, stroking her hair.

"I'm just afraid the nightmare was real," she mumbled. "That Remi really did kill Dana, and that he's after me."

"I don't know if he did or he didn't, but I do know he won't get to you; I promise you that."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she said.

He held up his pinkie. "What was that you did last time? Pinkie Pie promise?"

Her smile was watery, but she tugged on his pinkie with hers. "Okay."

He kissed her forehead. "Now, let's get some coffee in and figure out what we're going to do today."

"Well, for starters, I need a shower. And then you need to figure out how to set up an ambush."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because I got an email from someone offering to let me dig through a house for glassware. Problem is, I'm not that stupid."

"Where's this house?" Chris asked.

"Half an hour outside of New Orleans. City records say it was abandoned about ten years ago and fell to one of the banks. Google Maps satellite says it's the perfect place to make someone disappear." She reluctantly left his arms and went over to her table, where her laptop sat open. It took her a few seconds to pull up the map and the email, but when she did, Chris had to admit she was right.

"You thinking Remi Simoneaux is trying to lure you out?" he asked, studying the image.

"Yeah, I do."

"Doesn't look like there's a specific time on that invite."

"No, just for me to send a message when I was heading that way and said sender would meet me there."

"If it is him, I can let Hannah know and we can set up something," Chris said, picking up his phone and dialing a number.

"While you do that, I'm going to go have a shower. I'd offer to let you join me, but that's your call," she said, getting up from the table and heading for the bathroom, leaving Chris chuckling.

"_Chris, is Ray safe?_" Hannah asked, when she answered the call.

"Safe and sound. She got an interesting email though, and we both think Remi might have sent it," Chris said.

"_What sort of email?_"

"An invite to a house about half an hour outside of New Orleans, for an opportunity to do some glassware hunting, except according to city records, the place was abandoned about ten years ago, and Google Maps is showing it to be the perfect place for an ambush," he said. "Thinking of flipping things on Remi Simoneaux and grabbing him when he tries to grab Ray."

"_Send me the address and forward Patton the email," Hannah said. "I'll set him on tracing the email, and we'll go from there. If you're right, and Ray's willing, we'll coordinate with NOPD. But right now, we have a problem._"

"Okay."

"_NOPD found Dana Brown about an hour ago_," Hannah said. "_She's dead_."

"What? How?"

"_Her throat was cut and she was dumped over an overpass during the night._"

Chris swallowed hard. "Ray woke up screaming during the night," he hissed. "Said Dana was dead, that she'd been dumped over an overpass like garbage, and her throat had been cut. How the hell did she know?"

"_I don't know, but whatever the hell is going on, do not let Ray out of your sight. If it turns out that email is a trap, we'll get him_," Hannah promised, ending the call.

_Now what?_ Chris wondered, not sure what to think, or do, forwarding the email to Patton. _Did Ray really see Dana Brown die? Was she really the seer that Remi Simoneaux was claiming she was, or was something else going on here?_

_And if she was a seer, a psychic, then what? She claimed she hadn't known what Remi Simoneaux was talking about when he'd tried to claim she was one. If she was, why was she hiding it?_

_Maybe she has her reasons. She did mention an abusive mother. Maybe that's why. She also mentioned she hadn't had much luck with guys. Maybe it's because of her abilities, because they're afraid of what they don't understand, or they can't handle the fact that she's comfortable with a ghost._

_But can I be comfortable with something like that?_ he wondered. _Maybe. If I'm given the chance to find out. But right now, I'm supposed to be protecting Ray, and that means not letting her out of my sight. Huh. Maybe I do need that shower, and we could conserve water._

He headed for the bedroom, seeing the bathroom door still open, and found Ray picking out her outfit for the day. "Spoke to Hannah; she said to not let you out of my sight."

"Well, that's going to be kinda hard to do when I need a shower and you won't join me," she said, her breath hitching at the way he was looking at her, and then her eyes went wide when he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to one side.

"Oh, you'll be having a shower all right," he said, drawing her into his arms and kissing that one spot on her neck, between her ear and jaw, that always seemed to make her shiver, "but not before I do what I should have done last night." And with that, he picked her up by her waist, and dumped her on her bed. "You're right; this bed's the right height for a lot of things," he continued, following her down. "This is one of 'em."

They did eventually get to that shower, and Chris did find out why Ray liked it so much. When she had renovated the bathroom, she had not skimped on the shower fixtures, including the rainfall shower head, but had managed to retain the elegance of the apartment's clawfoot bathtub that was definitely big enough for both of them.

Afterwards, they got a call from Hannah, asking them to come down to NCIS, as Patton had managed to trace the email, and the news wasn't good.

Tammy's eyebrows shot up when she saw Ray and Chris walk in.

"Decided to go for the western look today?" she teased Ray, who smiled, but the smile didn't seem to reach the woman's eyes, causing Tammy to wonder what was going on.

Ray had elected to wear a white blouse with a high neck, a black paisley ascot, green brocade vest, black jeans, a familiar pair of black Victorian ankle boots, and a long black cotton duster Anson Mount would have worn in _Hell On Wheels_, or any other western. On her head was a flat-brim black cowboy hat with silver band detailing. In fact, Tammy was convinced the only thing missing was a pair six shooters and a gun belt.

"I am in the business of antiques, so it kinda helps when I look the part," Ray said.

"What's up? You said Patton managed to trace Ray's email?" Chris asked, after being introduced to Detective Valdez. Dwayne was also there, just in case they needed certain resources, and so was Loretta, with her report on Dana Brown.

"IP address says it came from Remi Simoneaux's place last night," Patton said, throwing up a map on the flatscreen that showed the area of Remi Simoneaux's house. "And you were right; the address listed is an abandoned house."

"Amazing what you can find out through city records," Ray said. "I'm only there once or twice a month now, mostly when things get a bit busy there and they need a spare hand and I'm not busy at the store, so I still have online access to those records."

"Good to know," Chris said.

"If necessary, I might be able to find the original building plans, unless you already found them," Ray said.

Patton looked at her, highly insulted. "If I can find a picture of you in elementary school, I sure as hell can find building plans for a place like that," he said.

Ray laughed. "My apologies," she said, holding up her hands in submission. "If you can find my kindergarten picture, I will never doubt your abilities again."

Patton tapped a few things on his tablet and threw up a picture on the flatscreen. It was of a very young, beaming, Rayhannah Metcalf, her curly blonde hair in pigtails and in a pink blouse and denim jumper dress, clutching a worn Raggedy Ann doll. "You were saying?" Patton asked, causing a round of laughter.

"You were a cute kid," Chris said to Ray, grinning at her.

"How the hell did you find that? That school burned down in a bushfire ten years ago," Ray said to Patton.

"But not before they converted their files to digital," Patton said. "And that includes all of their student photos. Wanna see your junior high school Halloween picture?"

"You wanna be able to eat without using a straw?" Ray threatened, causing another round of laughter. "I am going to go get some coffee. You buncha yahoos figure out how you're going to capture that wacko named Remi Simoneaux before he tries putting a bolt gun to my head, because if he does, I swear on my Aunt May's grave I will come back and haunt this place so badly you will have to call the _Ghost Adventures_ crew and six different types of priests and get them doing blessings on this place just to get me to leave."

And with that, she spun around, and headed for the kitchen, her duster swishing behind her as she walked.

Loretta smiled. "I'll go keep her company. You already have my report on Dana Brown."

And she followed Ray into the kitchen, leaving Chris to stare after them, a worried expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Chris?" Dwayne asked.

In a low voice, Chris told them what had happened during the night. "How the hell did she know? I swear, she was with me all night and I even checked her phone while she was getting her makeup on. Other than one message from Suzy, letting her know she was okay, no one called her or text her until this morning, and that was from Miles, asking about the police presence at the store yesterday."

"Marie did say Ray has some mediumship abilities," Dwayne admitted. "She also said Ray continues to try and hide those abilities for various reasons, mostly because she feels they've caused her nothing but trouble and heartache."

"So what do we do?" Chris asked.

"Nothing, other than try and be the kind of friends who will accept her for who she is, regardless of what she may or may not be able to do," Dwayne said. "For now, though, let's focus on that search warrant for Remi Simoneaux's house. Sebastian, you said that the blood test results came back."

"Yeah, the blood on the widow still was a match to Lieutenant Ryder, as well as Robbie Dawson, one of the other suspected victims," Sebastian said.

"So we can confirm that he was there, or at least his body was," Detective Valdez said.

"And I know a judge who can grant us that search warrant, one that Remi Simoneaux doesn't know about," Dwayne said. "He may have friends in the NOPD, but not on the JAG circuit, which I happen to have."

"And I know a SWAT guy who can be trusted," Valdez said. "He mentioned wanting to put his guys through a training exercise in the near future. A place like that would be good."

"It's creepy as hell. You seen the pictures?" Tammy asked.

"I saw and again, I know someone who can help us handle that. I don't trust Remi Simoneaux to pull something that would get us all hurt," Valdez said. "Been chasing after this guy for a while, so I've made a few friends of my own."

"Did Loretta find anything on Dana Brown connecting her to Remi Simoneaux?" Chris asked.

"She found skin and hair under Dana Brown's nails. Lab's running it now," Sebastian said. "But preliminaries are saying it's male, so there is that. As for what she was killed with, all Loretta could be certain of was that it was sharp enough to sever both carotid arteries; Dana Brown would have bled out in minutes."

"Based on what I know about him, Remi Simoneaux is very fond of his knives, particularly a knife that looks like a small machete he claims to have forged in the blood of his enemies," Valdez said.

"Does he know how to use it, do you know?" Hannah asked.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised if he does, but from what I've seen, he's more of the ambush type. He wants his victims whole and unspoiled, hence the use of the bolt gun," Valdez said.

"I asked Ray if she felt like being bait if we needed her for the abandoned house," Chris said. "She asked if she would be allowed to carry a gun, but then decided that wouldn't be a good idea because she might be too tempted to use it on Remi Simoneaux."

"So she's a go?" Hannah asked.

"If we need her, then yeah, she's a go," Chris said. "But if it comes to that, I am not letting her out of my sight."

"None of us will," Dwayne assured him. "Let's make some calls and gear up. Patton, can you send a reply to Remi Simoneax, making it look like it came from Ray's phone?"

"Have her type up a response and I'll send it," Patton said.

"Patton, is Ray licensed to carry?" Chris asked.

"She is, and she does," Patton said, throwing up a concealed weapons permit in Ray's name. "Records say she's currently carrying a Ruger SP101, and it looks like she's had it for a while because there's no record of her ever selling it, but I did find several records of regular visits to the local gun range, so she has kept her practice up."

"So she can defend herself if she needs to," Hannah said. "That's good. Let's hope she doesn't need to."

In the kitchen, Ray had removed her hat, revealing that her hair was pulled back with a silver bolo hair tie that went with the rest of her outfit.

"Ray, what's wrong?" Loretta asked, seeing the younger woman's eyes.

After biting her lip, Ray quietly told Loretta what had happened during the night, including the way Chris had held her.

"It felt so good, and I felt safe, for a moment, but what he doesn't know is that she hasn't left. She's hovering. They all are, just at the edge of my vision. They know something's wrong, and what's not helping is I can feel Dana's despair and grief. Remi betrayed her," Ray said, accepting the coffee Loretta handed her. "She realized what she was doing was wrong, what they were doing was wrong, and she tried to confront him about it, he killed her. Then he threw her away like garbage."

"Because, Ray, in his mind, that was all he saw Dana as; something to be used and then tossed aside when he no longer needed her," Loretta said.

"She realizes that now. She seemed to settle down, they always do, when I decided to play some tunes on my guitar. Think I woke Chris up with that though."

"Does playing music help you feel better?" Loretta asked.

"Yeah, it does. Starting to wish I'd brought my guitar with me, but that would have meant explaining a few things to Chris that I don't really want to explain, not right now anyway," Ray said.

"In that case, maybe I can help. It's good timing after all," Loretta said, smiling mysteriously. She disappeared for a moment, then came back with a black guitar case, which she handed to Ray. "It seems to me you are missing several birthdays, so consider this a very belated birthday gift."

What was in the case was a blue Epiphone PRO-1 Dreadnought acoustic guitar, and came with a black leather strap. "The store owner assured me it was already tuned and ready to go, so all you have to do is figure out what you want to play," Loretta said, watching as Ray's eyes went wide with wonder as she picked the gleaming instrument up.

Chris tilted his head at the sound of music playing, and, curious, he followed it into the courtyard. Then he was ducking back into the doorway and watching, grinning.

Ray was playing on a blue guitar, hat and duster off, seated at the table and chairs in the courtyard, with Loretta beaming proudly in the chair beside her. He didn't recognize the tune, but it sounded nice.

"Blues outside my door, I don't even know if it's raining

But I've been here before, and I don't want to be here again.

Every now and then, voices on the wind

Call me back to the first time

Far away and clear you can hear the teardrops

Falling for the last in love."

Dwayne joined him and was about to say something when he saw what Chris was watching and he went silent.

"If I let you down, all I can say is I'm sorry

Now it's all over town, so I don't want to hear it from you

Please don't look away, it's hard enough to say

This could go on forever

And when the night is clear I can hear the teardrops

Fall for the last in love."

Tammy joined them and was about to say something, when Dwayne held up a hand, silencing her. Her eyes went wide as she listened, watching Ray play with obvious enjoyment and skill.

"Every now and then voices on the wind

I may love you always and always

Far and clear you can hear the teardrops

Falling for the last in love

Calling for the last in love

Will we always be the last in love?"

"Which one was that?" Loretta asked, beaming.

"Last In Love, by George Strait. I grew up with his music, and I find it easier to play on the guitar, compared to some other artists," Ray admitted. "Collin Ray's not too bad; I was playing In This Life this morning."

Chris quickly pulled out his phone and showed his friends the video from earlier.

"She's got skill," Dwayne said.

Then Ray saw them and blushed. "What's up?" she asked as they came into the courtyard.

"Warrant came through," Dwayne said. "We're about to go hit the house and SWAT is ready and waiting to help take Remi Simoneaux down at the abandoned house, if you're still willing to play the game."

"Always," Ray said. "There's a catch, though."

"Okay," Dwayne said.

"I don't want Chris there," Ray said. Before Chris could protest, she held up a hand, stopping him. Then she removed the guitar and put it back in its case, before going to the agent. "Listen to me, deputy," she said, putting her arms around his waist. "I cannot have you with me because if you are, you're going to worry about me, and I'm going to worry about you worrying about me. I will be with the SWAT team, and you know yourself, they are some of the best around, next to a full-fledged SEAL team."

"I don't like this," Chris muttered.

"And I understand that, but if this is going to work, we all need to be on our A-game," Ray said. "Go serve the warrant on Remi's house and find the evidence that nails his sorry ass to a pair of concrete shoes, so you guys can finally toss him into the bayou for good." She reached up and stroked his face. "Let SWAT do what they do best, and you go do what you do best, which is gather evidence, and when this is all over, we'll have ourselves another date, one that doesn't involve us looking over each other's shoulders for the bad guy."

Chris smiled. "I can do that."

"Then go," she said, pulling his forehead down for a quick kiss and letting him go.

Before Dwayne left, Ray quickly whispered something to him.

"Have them go in armed; Remi had loyalists, ones who would kill at the drop of a hat for him, and they may be at the house."

"Understood," Dwayne said, keeping his voice low. "I'll let them know."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It took roughly an hour to get everyone together to execute the search warrant and the trap. Ray went with Dwayne to the staging area with SWAT, while the rest of the NCIS team hooked up with Valdez and the NOPD.

"This is crazy," Tammy muttered, watching as Marie and her friends did some ritual that Marie said would help and protect them as they executed the search warrant on Remi Simoneaux's house. Dwayne had reached out to Marie earlier and explained what was about to happen, trusting her to know what needed to be done to keep them safe, given that they were stepping into a heavily religious area, serial killer or not.

"Right now, with everything that's going on, I'll take what I can get," Hannah said, keeping her voice low. "Sometimes that means getting a little crazy."

They were at a staging area several blocks down from Remi Simoneaux's house, about to execute the search warrant with the NOPD, Valdez, and several other NCIS agents Dwayne had pulled in, watching as Marie and her friends did their blessing on the assembled crew. If their source was right, they couldn't take the risk that Remi Simoneaux might have followers who would destroy the evidence in the house before they could get to it, and right now, every little bit would help, even if it was a bit unorthodox. Privately, Chris couldn't help but wonder if the source had been Mercury again.

Marie stopped in front of Chris, and held out her hand. "I require one of your bullets."

"Okay," he said, removing his gun, removing the clip, and handing her one of his bullets from the clip.

"You are her protector," Marie said, clutching the bullet tightly. "They say troubles will come your way, for both of you, but together you are strong." She handed the bullet to one of the other women, who did something with it with some smoking sage, or whatever it was that the woman had, before handing it back to Chris, which now felt a lot hotter than it had before. "You will know what to do with this when the time comes. For now, engrave it with your initials, and hold onto it. May the odds be ever in your favor in your hunts, Christopher Adam Lasalle," she said, causing his eyebrows to shoot up at the fact that she knew his full name.

"Thanks, I think," he said, tucking the bullet into his pant pockets.

Once the ritual was done, the team moved in, surveying the house with binoculars first.

"I'm seeing movement on the first floor," Hannah said.

"We need to get to the second floor before someone else does," Tammy said.

"Same way as last time?" Chris asked.

"The ladder? If you can find it, yeah," Hannah said. "Move in and move carefully. If our source is right, whoever's there may be willing to either fight or destroy evidence, so watch your six."

That was easier said than done.

Moving low and fast, Chris and Valdez found the ladder and got it up against the house. What helped was that the window to the ritual room was open, so he and Detective Valdez were able to climb inside the room without too much noise.

"There is something very, very wrong with this place," Valdez hissed, eyes darting around the room.

"There's a machete missing," Chris said in a low voice, pointing to the one wall where he'd seen them the last time.

"If he's going after Rayhanah, then he may be planning on cutting off her head, which would be the easiest way to transport her eyes," Valdez said.

"You're not helping," Chris said, glaring at him.

Valdez chuckled. "Relax; Captain Cameron won't let anything happen to her. He gave me his word, and we've been friends for years."

"We're in," Chris said to Hannah over his radio.

Downstairs, Hannah banged on the door. "_NCIS! Search warrant, open up!_" she yelled.

There was a crashing noise from downstairs. "And thar she blows," Valdez said, raising his gun and aiming it at the door, Chris right beside him.

"_We have a runner!_" someone yelled, amid the commotion from downstairs.

"_Chris, someone coming your way!_" Tammy yelled.

And then someone slammed the ritual door room open. It was a man in a shirt and jeans, with a wild look in his eyes and a long machete in his hands.

"NCIS!" Chris snapped. "Drop your weapon!"

"Now!" Valdez yelled.

The man stared at them for all of two seconds and then gave a wild yell, lunging forward, machete swinging wildly. Two guns fired simultaneously, three times each. Six bullets hit the man in the chest, and he dropped to the floor, the machete clattering across the floor.

"Shots fired!" Valdez called. "One down!"

"_Secure the scene!_" Hannah called back. "_Hands are a bit full right now!_" Both men heard the sound of grunting over the radio, like someone was putting up a fight, followed by yelling.

"_Watch that knife!_"

"_Tasing, tasing!_" someone yelled.

"_Son of a bitch, what is this guy on?_" Tammy yelled.

"_Tasing again!_"

"_On the ground, on the ground!_"

"_Damnit, Sebastian, get him!_"

"_Guy's a damn greased pig!_"

"_We need straps and a mask! This guy's a spitter!_"

"_Sonvabitch!_"

"_Roll ambulance, we've got injuries_."

Chris stared at Valdez, who was staring back at him, both with wide eyes.

"Looks like your source was right," Valdez said.

"We got off light," Chris said, starting to look around the room.

Breathing hard, Hannah joined them a moment later. "What do we got?" she asked, her clothes showing signs of having been involved in the scuffle. She carefully stepped over the body and studied the room.

"Blood, body parts, photographs of our victims," Valdez said, pointing to the altar and the floor.

"And lots and lots of fingerprints," Chris said, pointing to the blood that was on the floor, where several prints could be seen in the dried blood.

"Anything connecting Remi Simoneaux to our Lieutenant Ryder?" Hannah asked.

"How about his vocal chords?" Chris asked, holding up one jar in his now-gloved hands, where a human voice box and tongue sat floating in some kind of fluid. "Only problem might be is if this is formaldehyde."

"Get that over to the lab, along with anything else," Hannah said.

The room was about the size of a master bedroom, and the altar was on one end of the room, covered in melted candles and various objects. On the floor, painted in blood and white paint, were various symbols, with similar symbols on the walls. In the closet there were shelves that contained supplies and carefully-labeled jars. There were several four gallon mason jars filled with liquids and various organs, such as hands, hearts, eyes, even a brain, and one jar that had a pair of ears floating in it. The general suspicion was that the ears belonged to Michael Thoredeau, who had been found with his ears missing. His talent had been his musical abilities, as, according to several witnesses, he had been fantastic at composing piano music.

"Before we do anything else, though, Marie wants to perform a blessing on the house, which she says will help protect Ray and disrupt Remi Simoneaux's magic. I told her that's fine as long as she doesn't destroy any evidence," Hannah said. "She's agreed to do it outside, and needs all of us outside for a few minutes."

"Well, I've waited this long to get my hands on this place, I can wait a few minutes more. Besides, maybe some good mojo might help us with our case," Valdez said. "That guy ain't going anywhere, anyway."

Outside, there was an NOPD prisoner transport van now parked nearby. Several NOPD officers were glaring at someone who was on the ground, a spit mask covering his face, and his hands and feet in straps and cuffs. Despite the restraints, the man was still yelling obscenities and squirming, trying to kick whoever he could reach, which was extremely difficult, given the fact that he was hogtied.

"That bad?" Chris asked Tammy, who was looking worse for the wear.

She glared at him. "Turns out there were two of them, other than the one you guys tangled with. He's got to be on LSD or some other crazy stuff, because it was like nothing we did brought this guy down, not even two jolts of a taser."

"One officer got bitten by him," Sebastian said, joining them. "He'd filed his teeth to some pretty nasty points and he bit down on the guy's arm like-"

"We get the idea, Sebastian," Tammy said, glaring at him.

Said officer was being attended to by another officer while they waited for an ambulance, and his arm was clearly bloody.

"NOPD had to hogtie the guy and put a spit mask on him with the way he was going at it," Hannah said, also joining them. "As it is, several officers are going to have to be tested, and so is the suspect."

Both Chris and Valdez cringed. That meant the loss of several good officers until the bloodwork came back on everyone.

"And the other guy?" Valdez asked.

"Tried to run, he got grabbed and slammed when he tried to run out of the house," Hannah said. "He's in the wagon right now, not saying a word."

Finally, Marie and her friends were done, and NCIS could do their thing, including calling Loretta in to deal with the fellow upstairs.

Sebastian's eyes went wide when he saw the ritual room. "Oh boy," he said. "Where do we even start?"

"I hope that's a rhetorical question," Tammy said, eyes also wide.

"No, nope," Sebastian said. "This is going to take me weeks to go through."

"We just need enough to convict Remi Simoneaux of murder," Hannah said.

"Evidence that he handled the victims, that won't be a problem," Sebastian said. "Evidence that he murdered our victims, that could be a problem, because I'm not seeing any sign of that bolt gun."

"Which means he could have it with him," Hannah said.

"Someone like him, probably," Valdez said. "He wants an unspoiled soul and the best way to do that is when the soul doesn't know fear before it dies, unlike the way Dana Brown was murdered."

"Start gathering," Hannah said. "Time waits for no one, not even us."

They worked quickly and efficiently, teaching a very-interested Valdez about evidence-gathering techniques, but it still took at least an hour. Half an hour in, Chris got the call that Remi, and a fellow worshiper, had been safely captured, with no injuries reported.

"I do believe there's a bottle of sweet pink moscato wine with your name on it, at my place," Chris told Ray, grinning.

"_Now we're talking, deputy_," Ray teased. "_But I sincerely hope that's not all you're planning on piling me with_."

"Nope, and I'm not saying anything more. See you back at NCIS, sweetheart," he said, hearing Tammy call him to another room that was like a pantry or linen closet.

"Remi's been stalking Ray for a while," she said, looking at the photographs all over the wall. They were all surveillance-type photos of Ray as she went about her day, both in and out of the store.

"He was watching her the day we made our first date," Chris realized, seeing the one of him and Ray dancing. It looked like it was through a long-range camera lens, which could explain why he didn't see anyone like Remi Simoneaux hovering around the store at the time. There was another one of Ray watching him and Dwayne depart, a smile on her face. And then she appeared to be turning to say something to someone.

"Any idea who she may have been talking to in that one?" Tammy asked.

"Possibly Mary," Chris said. "Her chair is in the store, and Ray's got a pretty good relationship with her."

"Suzy told me a bit more about Mary," Sebastian said, joining them, having overheard the last bit. "Her name was Mary Freeman. Born, raised, and died in the store, which was her home at one point. Likes to play games with the staff once in a while."

Chris chuckled. "Scared the hell out of a few of Ray's dates that way, like the one time she put this guy's underwear in the freezer, froze it solid, and sent one of Ray's cashiers running out of the store when she found it, never to be heard or seen from again."

Tammy glared at him. "I am never setting foot in that store. I hate ghosts," she hissed.

"We may have to," Sebastian said, spotting something. "That's Suzy and Donnie," he said, taking a photo down from the wall. Donnie had a grip on Suzy's arm, looking angry, while she looked frightened at whatever he was saying to her. "Looks like it was before his arrest, because he's currently sitting in a jail cell because he can't afford his bail, which, given his lack of jobs isn't all that surprising. Plus he tried to run, and there was the gun charges, so he's going to be there for quite a while."

"And you're sweet on her," Tammy guessed, grinning at her friend.

"She knows about every character in the Marvel universe," Sebastian admitted absently. "And her strawberry mint lemonade is really good."

"If Remi goes after Suzy, we could have a problem," Hannah said.

"I'll send someone over there to keep an eye on her, if she's at the store," Valdez said.

"Hang on," Sebastian said, digging out his phone. He dialed a number and soon had Suzy on the line, on speaker. "Suzy, it's Sebastian Lund."

"_Sebastian! I was hoping you'd call!_" came Suzy's happy voice. "_I found that sugar cookie recipe I told you about._"

"That sounds really good, Suzy, but that's not why I'm calling. Are you in the store right now?" Sebastian asked.

"_Yeah. Ray had to go take care of something, said she'd stay in touch. Is everything okay? Mary's been giving off some funny vibes and I can't shake the feeling that something's off_."

"Is there anyone else in the store right now?" Sebastian asked, seeing Valdez making a call.

"_No, but there's been a guy hanging around outside, and I'm starting to get nervous,_" Suzy admitted.

"Suzy, this is Agent Hannah Khoury. Can you lock the doors to the store, or get someplace safe?" Hannah asked.

"_In a heartbeat,_" Suzy said, sounding like she was already on the move.

"Do it. NOPD is heading your way, and you're to stay with them until we figure out what is going on," Hannah said. "As soon as Sebastian is done here, he and I will come over and explain what's going on."

"_Moving,_" Suzy said. There was a crashing noise, and Suzy screamed in reflex.

"Suzy!" Sebastian yelled.

"_I'm okay, I'm okay! That was Mary; she tipped over a coat rack we had near the door, and it's blocking the front door now,_" Suzy said, panting. "_Think she's trying to tell me something._"

"Yeah, like get going!" Sebastian said.

"_I'm going, I'm going, I'm going! Okay, okay, I've got the cameras, and the back door is locked. If, and when, NOPD shows up, tell them to come to the back_," Suzy said. "_If it really is them, they'll do Shave and a Haircut, and say they have a delivery._"

Sebastian glanced at Valdez, who nodded. "I've got someone coming your way that I trust," Valdez said. "You'll like her."

"And I'll be there as soon as I can," Sebastian said, ending the call.

"Go," Hannah said. "'We'll finish up here. Keep us posted."

"Going," Sebastain said, tearing out the door.

_Earlier:_

At the muster point with SWAT, Ray and Dwayne were introduced to Captain Cameron, who was a tall, muscular man, with a no-nonsense air about him, who studied Ray the way someone might study a bug under a microscope, more so when he found out she was a witness.

Just in case she was being watched, Ray would be driving her car, with Dwayne in the backseat, and SWAT converging on the house from the other roads. An NOPD prisoner transport van would be joining them, and so would two other officers, who would block off the access roads, just in case someone tried to run. The team had been warned about Remi Simoneaux's behaviour and preference for ambush shooting and given a map, abet an old one, of the house they were supposed to be going to.

"In that case, I expect you to do what I tell you, when I tell you," Cameron said to Ray. "If I say jump, don't ask how high, just do it."

"Actually no, I wouldn't. Instead, I'd tell you to go to hell," Ray said sweetly. "Do you need directions, or can you find your own way? That is, if you've already been sent there a few times, which, given your very charming personality, I wouldn't be at all surprised if they have a room with your name on it already."

"I'm trying to keep you safe," Cameron fired back, ignoring the sniggers from the others, and Dwayne's wide eyes; he was trying to decide if he was going to cringe or crack up. Ray was clearly no push-over.

"So am I," Ray shot back. "I know what I'm walking into. Your job isn't to keep me safe; your job is to capture that walking weirdo _before _he gets to me. Me? My job is to draw him out long enough for you guys to pound his sorry ass into the swamps, preferably without getting a bolt gun to the back of my head, because I'd really like to get another date with a certain NCIS fellow."

"And you will," Dwayne promised, "as long as you don't do anything we wouldn't do."

"Do you really want to go there?" Ray asked, muttered, tugging her hat onto her head and heading for her car, which she had picked up after Chris had dropped her off at the store, after a kiss that had nearly melted her Grumpy Cat socks off.

"You and I go in. You drop me off around the corner, before you come into view of the house," Dwayne said to Ray as she popped open her trunk and pulled out a pair of black hiking boots, quickly changing into them. "Captain Cameron and his team will be on the ground and circulating the house, doing, as you said, what they do best. Do you have your gun with you and is it loaded?"

"Yes I have it with me, no it's not loaded, because I didn't feel like dealing with jumpy cops," Ray explained. "Gun and rounds are in the glove compartment, and why am I not surprised that you know that I have one? Is there anything Patton _didn't_ find out about me?"

"Who your first kiss was," Dwayne teased her as he got into the passenger seat of the car. "But give him time." He quickly found the silver and black Ruger, along with a box of .357 Magnum rounds, and a belt holster.

"Why the revolver?" Dwayne asked, as Ray got into the car. "I would have thought maybe a Glock or something similar for you."

"Pull the hammer back on that," Ray said. Dwayne did so, and noted the sound the action made. "That's enough to make the more saner ones stop and think. Only ever fired it once outside the gun range, and that was at a cranky alligator. He got the hint after the first shot."

"Nice," Dwayne said, uncocking the gun, and putting it away for now. "And this is really nice," he said appreciatively, buckling in, as Ray turned the car engine on.

"Belonged to Aunt May. Gave it to me when I decided to leave Alabama," Ray explained. "Lotta years, lotta miles, and a whole lotta lovin'."

_Later:_

On the highway, traffic was light, thankfully, because all of a sudden, Ray screamed and slammed on the brakes of her car, causing Dwayne, who was belted in, thankfully, to go forward from the inertia.

"Ray! What's wrong?" he demanded, seeing the younger woman stare at something he couldn't see.

"Okay, enough!" she yelled, glaring at something on the road. "I know you don't want me to go to that house, because I know that you know he's there, but quit scaring the hell out of me! I know what I'm doing!"

"Ray?" Dwayne asked gently as Ray let go of the gas and resumed driving, breathing a little hard, as his radio crackled.

"_Everything okay, Agent Pride?_" came a male voice.

"Everything's fine," Dwayne radioed back. "Ray thought she saw a gator in the middle of the road and her car's not equipped for that kind of damage. Turns out it was just a reflection." He glanced at Ray.

"Lieutenant Ryder. He and the others know where Remi is, and they know I'm on my way to meet him, and they're trying to stop me from going there because they don't understand," Ray explained. "Thought I saw him in front of the car for a second."

"Hence the brakes," Dwayne realized.

"Yeah. Him and Dana and the others, they're hovering. I think Marie and her friends did something because when I can see them, their colors aren't quite as dark. Like they're almost free."

"Well, let's hope that at the end of the day, we can free them completely. Lieutenant Ryder's family mentioned he wanted a New Orleans-style jazz funeral. You should come," Dwayne said.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. Despite everything that's going on, I don't really know Ryder," Ray said.

"Maybe not, but if it hadn't been for you, he would never have been found, Kritanta."

Ray snapped a look at him.

"Mercury, if you're going to be calling me names. Kritanta is the god of death. I'm not; I'm just a messenger, like Papa Legba."

"Fair enough, but sooner or later, Chris is going to figure that out, if he hasn't already."

"Can we worry about one thing at a time, because the GPS says we're coming up to the house, which means it's time to stop jawing and start working."

"Fair enough. This conversation is on hold, for now," Dwayne said, checking his weapon as Ray slowed down.

Once she had slowed down enough for him to get out safely, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, shutting the door quietly, and disappearing into the woods surrounding the house. SWAT would be taking a slightly different route around the back of the house and circling accordingly, while Dwayne kept a close eye on Ray and her movements.

"_There's a truck here_," Ray said over her radio. She gave a plate number that Dwayne recognized as belonging to Remi Simoneaux.

"Be careful," Dwayne said.

"_As a kitty in a room full of rocking chairs and old folks_," Ray promised.

Dwayne watched as Ray parked and got out of her car. She went to the trunk of her car and pulled out a black N95 mask, slipping it over her face, along with protective eyewear, before putting her glass gloves, other wise known as Kevlar knit gloves with latex palms, on. Such gloves would prevent cuts and slippage from sharp glass, more so from dirty glass. The mask would prevent her from breathing in mold and other contaminants that were bound to be floating about in a building that was as old and abandoned as the one in front of her, and the glasses would protect her eyes from flying debris. A disposable hair net went over her hair to stop unwanted visitors from getting into her hair, and with her curly hair, getting ticks out could be difficult.

Her Ruger went into its holster and on to her hip, where it was covered by her denim and sherpa jacket, but ready for a fast draw. After that, all she needed was her heavy-duty flashlight, a large purple 4-cell D Maglite, and she was good to go.

Then she approached the building and stopped. It appeared as if she was praying or something, but Dwayne couldn't help but wonder if maybe she was reaching out, using those same abilities she seemed to hate. Switching to the bug he'd helped put in her ear earlier, just in case something like this happened, he called out to her in a low voice.

"Ray?"

"_There's another one here, King_," Ray said in a low voice. "_He's been here for years; this was his land long before New Orleans was ever a city. I think he was Chitimacha; history says they lived in the New Orleans area centuries ago._"

"They did," Dwayne confirmed. "Still do, mostly in St. Mary Parish."

"_I don't understand his name, but it has something to do with a fast running horse_," Ray continued, moving forward into the house. "_He knows there's someone else here, someone he doesn't like,plus two others, and they're on the first level of the house and in the truck behind the house_."

"Be careful," Dwayne said, watching Ray go inside the house. "She's in," he radioed to Cameron.

"_We see her, and we're seeing movement in the kitchen area and in the area of the barn. Moving in_," Cameron said.

_There comes a time, child, when the ones you try so hard not to hear, are the ones who can be your friends, and they can teach you things, wonderful things_, Father Martin's memory whispered through Ray's mind. She had been ten when he'd told her that, and for some reason, he was in her mind now.

_So how do I hear them, when I want to hear them? How do I make friends with them when they scare me so much? _Young Ray asked.

_The same way you did with me, by saying hello._

_Just say hello?_

_Just say hello. No matter how angry or how much they might scare you, they all have something to say._

She was headed for the kitchen, checking out the area with her flashlight in a steady motion, when the Chitimacha man appeared in front of her. He raised his hand, indicating she was to stop. There was something wrong.

And then Ray heard it; a slight creak of floorboards that were no longer as strong as they used to be. And she carefully reached for her gun, moving sideways into the kitchen door with one careful step, so that the movement of her withdrawing her gun wasn't seen.

Running Horse, as she called the warrior, nodded in approval.

_Friends? _she asked him, showing him mental pictures of the SWAT team and Dwayne. He shook his head.

She moved further sideways, out of view of the door, just as someone she didn't recognize came into view. It was a woman with long cornrows and in scruffy jeans and shirt, a baseball bat in her hands, ready to strike.

Ray brought the gun up and pulled the hammer back, causing the woman to freeze. "He's not worth your sorry life, woman," she said softly. "Put the bat down and get down on your knees."

"And if I don't?" the woman growled.

"Then you will have to deal with them," Ray said, pointing her light towards three SWAT officers who had appeared at the back door and were now aiming their weapons at the woman. "Do not scream," Ray cautioned the woman as she opened her mouth. "Your life, and the soul of your dead daughter, are not worth dying over," she whispered softly, so that only the woman could hear her. The woman looked at her, eyes wide. "Her name was Rosaleen, and she was a beautiful child who loved _Dora the Explorer_ and singing songs in church. Remi claims he can bring her back, but you know better. What's done is done. She's here, because you haven't let her go. You're better than this, and Rosaleen believes that, because you were her mother, and you were her world, even if her father never was part of it. Be the kind of person Rosaleen thought you were, not what Remi wants you to be. Put your weapon down, and go with the SWAT team."

Nodding, the woman slowly lowered her weapon, and got down on her knees, tears rolling down her face.

"She won't give you any trouble," Ray told the officer as the woman was quickly cuffed, and Ray put the safety back on her gun.

"What did you say to her?" the officer asked, keeping his voice down.

Ray shrugged. "I know things. Better if you don't ask." She knelt in front of the woman, who was quietly sobbing. "Where is he, sweetie? Talk to us."

"Living room, with a bolt gun," the woman admitted. "He put some pretty glass things there to get your attention."

"Okay. Thank you," Ray said. On impulse, she gave the woman a hug. "You'll be okay. It won't be easy, but God never said it would be easy. He said it would be worth it," she whispered to the woman, who nodded vigorously. "Go with them." She stood up and whispered fast to the remaining officer. "She said he's in the living room with a bolt gun."

"We got anyone with eyes on the living room?" the officer hissed over his radio.

"_Confirmed. We see him; he's against one wall, near the entrance_," someone said.

"Don't spook him just yet," Ray said, seeing Running Horse appear. He pointed at something, and she got a mental flash that the walls weren't that thick. "The walls aren't that thick." She grinned, as an idea came to mind. "Ever watch _Kung Fu: The Legend Continues_?"

"Every episode. Did you know I was a linebacker in high school and college?" the officer said, a trace of a grin in his voice, as he slung his weapon onto his back and took aim at the wall, crouching down like a football player about to charge. "Nickname was Bulldozer."

"I believe it," Ray said. "Start your engines, Bulldozer."

There was a crashing noise from within the house as Dwayne and the other two officers converged on the truck that was behind the house. The driver, hearing the crashing noise, jumped and spun around in his seat, only to see a smiling Dwayne Pride smiling at him from the back of the truck, gun aimed at him. He turned to dive out of the truck, only to come face to face with the wrong end of an assault rifle, held by a SWAT officer in full tactical gear. He snapped the other way, only to find the same result.

"I think we need to talk," Dwayne said easily. "Hands where we can see them, or you won't be making it out of that truck alive, which would be a pity, because that looks like a really nice truck."

The man slowly raised his hands, but all of a sudden lunged and tried to start the truck, yelling loudly and stomping on the gas.

But the truck never turned over, despite repeated attempts by the would-be getaway driver.

"Stop," the SWAT officer said on the driver's side, sounding disgusted. "You're embarrassing yourself. Out. Now."

Swallowing hard, the man finally gave up and got out of the truck. He was quickly on the ground and cuffed.

"_Suspect Remi Simoneaux in custody,_" Cameron said over the radio. "_No injuries reported, other than the suspect, who got bulldozed by our own bulldozer._"

"Got another one in custody," Dwayne said. "What about Ray? Is she secure?"

"_As a bug in a rug_," said Cameron. "_She's headed back to her car._"

Sure enough, Ray was headed to her car, but Dwayne quickly realized something was wrong. For one thing, she was walking behind the SWAT officers, and what they couldn't see was the long piece of sharp metal she was hiding behind her back.

Moving quickly, Dwayne grabbed Ray's arm, halting her and pulling her away from the group.

"Ray, what the hell are you doing?" he hissed, grabbing the hand that held the metal.

Ray looked at him and he felt his eyes go wide. For a moment he swore her eyes changed color. Then:

"_He deserves to die._"

"That may be, but you don't get to do that. If you go after him, it won't be just his life you'll ruin, it'll be Ray's, and she is innocent in this," he hissed. "Let her go, _now_."

Ray blinked, and then staggered, dropping the metal. "King? What's going on?" she asked, confused.

"I think one of Remi's victims took over you for a second. You were about to try and stab him, but I got to you first," Dwayne said, leading Ray back to her car. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused. I hate it when they do that," she muttered, rubbing her head.

"Then let's get you out of here, and get you back home. I did promise Chris I'd keep you safe. Didn't think it would include ghost busting," he said, grinning.

"Think that was Dana who tried pulling that shit. She's pretty mad."

"What about the other fellow, the Chitimacha?" Dwayne asked."Running Horse? Why do you think the truck wouldn't turn over?" Ray asked, grinning, as she headed for the back of her car, popped the truck, and removed her gear. Then she removed a black guitar case and removed a familiar blue guitar. "Home, James, and don't spare the whip, but if you ding my car, I'll ding your head," she said, putting the guitar across her shoulders and chest, and then tossing him her keys. "I've got an itching for some tunes."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The woman, Lorianne, was placed in one of the police cars, and demanded to know if the car's camera was watching. When she was told it was, she asked to have it facing her, and then told the officer that she was going to tell him everything she knew about Remi Simoneaux, which was a lot, and wanted the video to be her confession. The officer transporting her was smart enough to remind her of her rights, to which she instructed him to read her those rights. Upon doing so, the officer asked her if she understood those rights and did she want a lawyer.

"_I understand my rights, sir, and no, I don't want a lawyer. What I want is to make sure Remi Simoneaux faces a judge, both here and in front of God, the Good Lord willing_," Lorianne said. "_I know what he did, I know how he did it, and I may not be able to prove it, but I am a witness, and with God as my witness, I will testify_."

"_Understood_," the officer said.

And she talked. She spoke about how Remi would initially approach the victims, how he found out about them, and what he did once they refused to have anything to do with him. She talked about moving two of the bodies, including Lieutenant Ryder, and the bizarre rituals that Remi had conducted. Upon being asked by the officer, she explained Remi had approached her after the funeral for her daughter, who had died as a result of a drive-by shooting at a birthday party she'd been at, along with some family. What had been even more frustrating was that the intended victim had walked away with a few scratches, while the bullets, all from automatic weapons, had punched through the flimsy fence like paper. And the shooters hadn't even cared, because they tried again three days later. This time one of them wound up in the morgue. The officer admitted to being familiar with the case, having heard about it through the NOPD grapevine. He said he'd gone home that day and hugged his own kids real tight.

As for Remi and Lorianne, Remi had promised to help Lorianne, who had been grieving, angry, and hurting, get her revenge against the gang members, and, if she did what he needed her to do, then he would help her get her daughter back from the dead.

"_I was desperate, and he played on that, and eventually I felt like I was too far gone deep to back out. He threatened to have my daughter's soul sent to the deepest parts of hell, and to send me there too, if I didn't do what I was told_," Lorianne confessed. "_So I did whatever he wanted me to do, even if it meant getting blood on my hands_."

"_And now? Why now?_" the officer asked.

"_Because that woman, whoever she was, she knew. She knew about my baby girl and what she loved. I don't know how, and I don't care, but she knew, and she was right. She didn't even get mad at me. She just…_" Lorianne shook her head. "_How do you get mad at someone like her? She even gave me a hug and told me I would be okay, reminded me that the Holy Father never said it would be easy, only that it would be worth it. She had every right to be mad at me, for trying to hurt her like that, but instead…_" Again Lorianne shook her head.

"_Instead, she was nice to you,_" the officer said.

"_People like her, no, no way am I gonna let Remi Simoneaux near her. They're the good in this world that we don't have enough of. Yeah, I know I'm probably facing some pretty serious jail time because of all this, but that's okay. I'll take it, I'll take my punishment, but I'll also make sure that Remi does not walk away from this_," Lorianne said. "_And if I die because of him, then I will do so gladly, because I know I'll see my baby girl again, I'll know I tried to do right by her_."

"Lorianne confessed to everything she knew about Remi Simoneaux," Dwayne said, pausing the video they had been watching back at NCIS. NOPD had turned the video over to them as soon as the officer's commanding officer had been told about it, realizing very fast the kind of evidence they now had on hand. "We have him, we have Lorianne's confession, and we have two more of his friends, including Eric Cotter."

It was several hours later, after the search warrant had been executed on Remi Simoneaux's place, and said suspect had been arrested for attempted murder. His bolt gun had been taken to the labs and expedited for trace, along with everything else that had been found during the search.

NOPD, and Officer Gettys, a long-time friend of Detective Valdez, had arrived at _Haddy's_ and were able to quickly apprehend the man that Suzy had seen hanging around the store. The man, who flatly refused to identify himself or provide identification, had been printed and run, only for the officers to find out he had several outstanding warrants out for him, including sexual assault. When asked about him by Lorianne, she admitted to knowing him, and knowing Remi used him for what he called sex magic, which she didn't understand, nor did she particularly want to understand.

Sebastian had shown up at _Haddy's_ and gotten a rib-cracking hug from Suzy, who had been hiding in a backroom that promised to give anyone trouble if they tried attacking her in there.

The team were able to get more of an idea about what the man, identified as Eric Cotter, was doing there when Patton dumped his phone and discovered a number of calls to and from a very familiar number.

"He was part of Remi Simoneaux's little clique," Patton said, throwing up the man's mugshot on the flatscreen. "I'm finding numbers for at least four more, thanks to Lorianne. NOPD's rounding them up as we speak."

"How's Suzy?" Tammy asked. Sebastina was back at the labs, plowing through what he swore was a year's worth of blood and body evidence.

"Safe. Officer Gettys is staying with her and Ray while we deal with all this," Dwayne said. "Right now, though, we have a problem. We need Remi Simoneaux to talk."

"Too bad we can't get Ray in to scare the hell out of him," Tammy mused thoughtfully.

"We are going to need to be careful with her and him," Dwayne said. He told them what had happened at the house.

"That is some seriously weird shit," Tammy said, eyes wide. "If she keeps hanging around, is this going to be a regular occurrence?"

"From what Ray has said, it's part of her life, one she tries to keep hidden as much as she can," Dwayne admitted.

"Why?" Chris asked.

"Her mother. Seems she was abusive towards Ray when it was discovered she was showing the same talents as her grandmother, Gemma," Dwayne admitted, having gotten the story from Ray during their trip. "First time she tried to tell her mother about the strange man in the church, the one no one else could see and who always wore what she thought was a black dress, her mother slapped her. She was five. Turns out that was Father Martin, who died about a hundred years before Ray was born."

"Wow," Sebastian said.

"She also knows about the man in Trutone, before it was Trutone and you were calling it CFA," Loretta said, joining them. "He likes to hang around the back bar area and said he was burned, like from an explosion. Said she could still see the scars on the building, even though you did a really nice job of the place. She also knows you cut the fingers off of one of Avery Walker's associates in the patio area, because she kept seeing a man in tactical gear holding his hand and screaming, and the man was missing his fingers. She calls that an echo, and says it's different than the man at the Trutone, because the echo is a form of a memory, an echo of an event that happened that left a mark on the land." She looked at Chris and smiled. "Your girlfriend has some very unique talents, but she's also been hurt badly by others who either tried to use her for their own gains, or weren't willing to try and understand that she has no control over these abilities."

_Which is what she meant when she said she hasn't had much luck with guys,_ Chris realized, feeling his protective instincts surging. "What about what she said to Lorianne?"

"I did some checking; Lorianne did have a daughter by the name of Rosaleen, who was killed in a drive-by shooting about a year ago," Dwayne admitted. "The one picture I was able to find showed her wearing a _Dora the Explorer_ shirt."

"And the gang thing?" Tammy asked.

"Andros Dilbert is currently serving time for involuntary manslaughter and attempted first degree murder," Dwayne said. "According to the prosecutor I spoke to, what didn't help Andros' case was that he showed absolutely no remorse for his victims, calling them a casualty of war. The judge hit him with the stiffest sentence he could, and the prosecutor was cursing because he didn't think he'd had enough evidence to hit Andros Dilbert with felony murder." Dwayne sighed heavily. "Anyway, the question is, knowing what we know about Remi Simoneaux, is it worth it trying to get his confession, or do we turn our evidence over to the prosecutor and go from there?"

"The guy is a classic narcissist," Tammy said. "He wants what he wants, regardless of whether or not what he wants gets someone hurt. And if someone gets in his way, then he takes them out of his way by any means possible, even if that means murder."

"And what does he want?" Hannah asked.

"Power and control," Tammy said. "If we take that away from him, especially on the religious side, then that might rock him," she continued thoughtfully. "He gets his power and his control from being what he thinks is a powerful sorcerer, and that means a lot of followers, just like those sorry excuses of priests and cult leaders."

"His strength is based on his followers," Hannah realized.

"Exactly. You can't be a leader if you don't have followers. No followers, no leader. No leader, no power. No power, no control," Tammy said.

"Well, we already have the start of that crack in his power with Lorianne," Chris said. "Plus there's that business with Dana Brown."

Hannah's phone rang and she quickly answered it. It was Sebastian calling with preliminary results. She quickly switched on the video camera.

"Okay, we have blood evidence," Sebastian said, quickly bringing up images. "_DNA is still coming, but one sample we got matched Jeanie Straite, and the chances of that are very, very good, because she had a rare blood type; type AB-negative, which covers about point six of the population of the United States._"

"What about the bolt gun?" Hannah asked.

"_Blood spray confirmed on it and one blood type matches Lieutenant Ryder. DNA is going to take a little longer, but Remi Simoneaux's prints are all over the thing, and it matches the wound on the back of Lieutenant Ryder's head,_" Sebastian said. "_Plus with the video of him and the lieutenant's car, that's quite a bit of evidence there_."

"And the Horror Room?" Tammy asked.

"_Lots of blood evidence_," Sebastian admitted. "_In fact, with what we have right now, we could probably get him charged._"

"I don't want probably," Hannah said. "I want without a doubt. This guy is about power, and we need to take that power away from him. For good."

"Then I'm going to need more time, a lot more time. I'm focusing on Lieutenant Ryder right now, because he's our current victim, but I'm also running DNA from Dana Brown. I need a DNA sample from him though."

"And that won't be easy," Tammy said. "The whole power thing."

"Not if Ray punches him," Chris said thoughtfully. "The whole power thing? What if one of Remi Simoneaux's victims were to stand up to him? Call him out or whatever?"

"Do you think she'd be comfortable with that?" Dwayne asked. "It's a big risk, not one I would normally ask of someone."

"Maybe not, but as you said, Ray's not your average would-be victim," Tammy said. "She converted one of his followers just by being nice to her."

"And that shows you the size of her heart," Loretta said. "Do you have Ray's DNA on file?" she asked Sebastian.

"_No, but I do have her prints; they were on file from her history with City Hall,_" Sebastian admitted. "_Plus, she was arrested when she was seventeen._"

"For what?" Chris asked.

"_For punching out her gym teacher_," Sebastian said. "_Teacher pressed charges to teach her a lesson, but the charges were later dropped. Doesn't say why_."

"_Because the jerk put his hand up my skirt, so I put my fist on his nose, that's why_," Ray said, when they FaceTimed her.

"Good girl," Chris said proudly.

"_I wasn't the first girl he'd done that to, and Sheriff MacCabee made damn sure I was the last. That's how he got the charges dropped,_" Ray said. "Small town rumors can be nasty little things."

"That they can," Loretta said, nodding.

"_Anyway, as much as I'm loving this little chitty-chat thing, what can I do for you?_" Ray asked, doing something in the store kitchen.

"We need DNA evidence from Remi Simoneaux and the chances of him willingly giving it to us are pretty much non-existent," Hannah said.

"_Court order?_" Ray asked, stirring something.

"Too much time, and Remi's likely to fight, which he can later claim as police brutality, which results in the DNA being thrown out," Hannah said.

"_And any lawyer with half a brain can do that in their sleep, especially with all the police brutality stories going around these days_," Ray said thoughtfully. "_Hey Sebastian, you there?_" she called.

"_I am_," Sebastian said.

"_Which do you prefer; leather gloves or a ring?_" Ray asked, heading for something in the store.

"_Rings; I can hold them better when I'm extracting DNA evidence_," he said promptly.

"_In that case, I know just the thing_," she said, holding up an art deco sterling amethyst marcasite ring that glittered in the artificial light. "_Big, wide, flashy, and lots of surfaces. And if I wear gloves underneath, you guys can't honestly say it was me that hit him_," she said thoughtfully, trying the ring on her right hand; it was fairly loose.

"_Aim for the mouth,_" Sebastian advised. "_He's got facial hair there_."

"_And if he cries foul?_" Ray asked.

"Then we classify you as a consultant and convince the judge to let you off lightly due to emotional stress, seeing as how you were one of Remi's would-be victims," Dwayne said.

"But you get one punch, and one punch only, so make it count," Hannah warned.

"_Give me a bit, and that'll be one sucker punch coming up_," Ray said cheerfully. "_Of course, I may have a bit of a race with Suzy, who's looking for an excuse to punch out Remi, herself_." And with that, she signed off.

Half an hour later, Ray was tugging black latex gloves over her hands, with the costume ring in her hand, having been coached by Tammy and Hannah on what to say.

"His power is your fear. No fear, no power. He will say whatever it takes to make you feel afraid. If you're not afraid of him, he has no control over you," Hannah said.

"If you treat him like he's a joke, then that undermines him," Tammy said. "He's the kind of person who doesn't like being laughed at."

"And the whole religion thing?" Ray asked.

"Do you believe in it?" Tammy asked.

"No," Ray said.

"Problem solved," Tammy said. "If you don't believe in the very thing Remi uses as a source of power, then that power has no hold over you."

"Sounds like me and the Catholic Church," Ray muttered before heading for the room, knowing she would be watched by Chris, Hannah, and Tammy, who had put a bug in her ear.

Suzy had elected to come with Ray, with the store being closed for the day and wanting to meet the cool people Ray had mentioned, in addition to wanting an explanation as to why Remi Simoneaux tried to send his buddies after her, specifically a known sexual predator.

This time she wore a red Lolita blouse with puffed sleeves and a high collar, a knee-length black button skirt with suspenders, white pantyhose, and cute black kitty face mary janes. She was carrying a black lace parsole and a cute black lace purse that matched her outfit, and her hair, done in curls, bounced as she looked around the building, eyes wide with fascination.

"This place is so cool!" she enthused. "Is it true that it used to be a carriage house at one point?"

"You know your history," Chris said, grinning at her.

"I know New Orleans," Suzy said. "I was born and raised here, and even a hurricane can't send me running."

"In that case, allow me to show you some of the more interesting parts of this place," Dwayne said, smiling widely.

Chris studied his girlfriend, who was looking a bit tired. "Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked.

"No, but you need DNA evidence, and the faster you guys get this loony lunatic off the streets and behind bars, the better," Ray said.

"You're one gusty lady," Chris said, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

And now Ray was entering the interrogation room, where Remi Simoneaux sat, handcuffed, head bowed, and chanting quietly.

"Y'know, a church full of guys and gals doing a Gregorian chant sound way better than you do," Ray said, hoping on to the table and crossing her arms.

"And you are, child?" Remi asked, staring at her coldly.

"Who me? What, you don't recognize my adorable baby blue eyes?" she asked, pretending to be insulted. She pouted, then smiled widely. "I'm the girl whose brains you tried to turn to mush with that pretty little toy of yours, just to get at said eyes." She clicked her tongue. "That football tackle through the wall was hilarious. Wonder how hard you bounced that thick skull of yours off the floor."

"Your words mean nothing, child," Remi hissed at her. "Your eyes will belong to me, one way or another, and I shall have power over all the spirits. I shall see them as you do, and they shall be mine to command, as will your soul, and any soul who dares to defy me."

Ray grinned widely at him. "Your elevator don't go all the way to the top floor, do it?" she asked sweetly. She clicked her tongue. "Bless your heart. You know, I'll bet you're one of those dandies that thinks the sun comes up just to hear you crow." When he glared at her, she smiled widely, flashing her teeth at him. "Whatsa matter, Remi, old boy? You got a burr in your saddle? You want to know what I think?" Remi opened his mouth to say something, but Ray didn't let him get in a word. "I think you can be very charming when you want to be, and that can be a useful skill, but instead, you decided to use it to manipulate people. That's not being smart, that's being stupid, and it seems to me you're so damn stupid that if you tried to throw yourself over the railing, you'd still miss the ground. You and your hokey religion thing don't scare me one teeny, tiny little bit. Your followers, meh, there's some cause for concern, being religious fanatics and all that, but you, nah. You're a walking joke. Always have been. Always will be. You're never getting my baby blues, because these beautiful blue eyes of mine can see right through your sorry sack of skin." She bounced off the edge of the table and tugged on her gloves. "That feels better." And then she swung, catching Remi full on in the mouth with her fist, sending him tumbling backwards. "But not nearly as good as that. Have a nice day." And with that, she sauntered out, humming _Dancin', Shaggin' on the Boulevard_, leaving a stunned Remi Simoneaux on the floor.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

It took a bit of time, but the DNA results came in. Presented to a prosecutor, Remi Simoneaux was sunk, confession or not. The prosecutor, Clarke Adams, knew he had a lot of work ahead of him, but there was plenty of evidence that would make things very, very difficult for Remi Simoneaux's defense team. As it stood, he was currently in isolation due to the nature of his crimes and the number of times one of the prisoners inside had tried attacking the former sorcerer.

"Twice in one week alone," Hannah said, reading the report. "Not a popular man."

"This keeps up and he'll be lucky if he even makes it to trial," Tammy said.

"Is Adams saying anything about Ray's involvement in the trial?" Chris asked.

"Not yet, no," Hannah said. "Honestly, the only thing Ray was really involved in was helping us capture him."

"And the punch," Sebastian said. "That got us his DNA."

"That too, but that was classified as emotional trauma," Hannah said.

"I'd like to keep her out of it as much as possible," Chris said.

"We'll try, but that depends on what Adams decides to do," Hannah said. "For now, we make sure our I's are dotted and our T's are crossed."

"Have you spoken to Ray about her abilities?" Tammy asked Chris.

"Sort of. I get the feeling she doesn't like talking about it, which makes it harder for me to figure out exactly what her abilities are," Chris said. "How can I know what her abilities are and if I'm comfortable with them if she won't talk to me about it?"

"Well, Loretta did say she's can see bits of the past through the echos, so there's that," Sebastian said. "That's clairvoyance."

"And her nightmares," Tammy said. "You said Dana Brown showed Ray what happened to her, and Pride said Dana took over her for a bit."

"Clairsentience or clairesentinence," Sebastian said.

"What's the difference?" Chris asked.

"One is clear sensing and the other is clear feeling," Sebastian said. "Either being able to sense what a spirit is trying to communicate, and the other is being able to feel what a spirit is feeling, usually right before the person died."

"Loretta did say Lieutenant Ryder made Ray feel the pain in his head when Remi hit him with the bolt gun," Tammy said.

"As for Dana taking over Ray, that's possession," Sebastian said.

"Does she have any control over what happens?" Chris asked.

"Why don't you ask her?" Tammy asked. "Maybe with the nightmares, she doesn't, but maybe during the day, she might. And maybe it's those abilities that allow her to get along so well with Mary."

"Seems to me, though, despite all that extra stuff, she's a pretty nice person," Hannah said.

"Kind of like Barry Allen from _The Flash_," Sebastian said.

"Or even Melinda Gordon from _The Ghost Whisperer_," Tammy said. "Normal life, not so normal side gig."

"What about this _Ghost Adventures_ thing she mentioned?" Chris asked.

"Zack Bagans and his crew," Hannah said. "My daughter loves his show. He's a ghost hunter and been in the business for a few years, checking out all kinds of haunted places. He's worked with a few psychics and has got two books and one haunted museum in Las Vegas, one that's caused more than a few interesting incidents with visitors." At the stares she got, she shrugged. "I looked the show up once I realized my daughter was interested in it. Parental thing and all that."

"Of course," Tammy said, a smirk on his face. "Is he cute?"

"Bagans? He's easy on the eyes, and that's all I'll say," Hannah said, grinning. Then she turned to Chris. "Listen, the only way you're going to know what Ray can and can't do, and if you're comfortable with that, is if you talk to her. The important thing to remember, though, is spirit abilities aside, she's still human and she still feels. She still wants the same basic things as we all do; love, safety, happiness, a sense of belonging."

"Companionship," Tammy said. "Those nightmares of hers have got to be hell on her."

"She did seem to like it when I was there the last time," Chris admitted.

"What did you do?" Hannah asked.

"Just held her, told her she was safe," Chris said.

"And maybe that's the most important thing you can do," Tammy said, "just be there."

Later, Chris invited Ray over for an overdue picnic date at his place, with offerings of fried chicken, pasta, coleslaw, and potato salads, and potato wedges with gravy. As for dessert, there was ice cream from a favorite place of his. After covering the usual topics and general chit-chat (plus a few kisses along the way), Chris carefully brought up the subject of Ray's abilities.

"I'm not gonna judge you, because it's not my place to do so, but I do want to try and understand," he said, sitting so his knees were touching hers, and he was facing her. "Will you tell me what you see and hear? Will you help me understand?"

Ray stared at him, a glass of Arbor Mist Watermelon Strawberry Pink Moscato wine near her lips. "This isn't a game," she finally said.

"Not treating it like it is," he said. "Loretta and King told me a few things, like you seeing what King did to one of Apollyon's thugs in the courtyard. And the burned guy in Trutone. And the way Lieutenant Ryder made you feel his pain. Does that always happen?"

She swallowed hard. "Sometimes. Usually when they don't understand what's going on. Sometimes I'll feel their emotions, especially the more extreme ones," she said carefully. "Fear, anger, sadness, those are usually the big ones."

"What about Dana? That nightmare of yours."

"I saw what was happening through her eyes and I felt my throat being cut. I saw Remi dumping her body, and I felt her sense of betrayal and rage at being betrayed," Ray explained. "I felt it as if it was actually happening to me, right down to my blood pouring down my chest, and the sting of the cut, and not being able to breath. And I heard her crying to me, telling me to run, because if I didn't, Remi was going to kill me just like he'd done the others." She stared into the glass of wine as if it could give her answers.

"How often does this kind of thing happen?"

"Everyday. There's always something going on, so much that most of the time it's background nose. The nightmares, not so much. Some nights I actually get some decent sleep. Other times, especially around Halloween, I have to take a strong sleeping pill just to get any sleep." She dipped her head. "Sometimes I can block them out, thanks to things I learned over the years, from reading about others like me, or good ol' trial and error. Sometimes the ones who whisper tell me interesting things, like the Chitimacha guy that was at the house Remi tried to ambush me at. He told me about Lorianne before I even heard her footsteps behind me, and about the fact that the walls in the house were so thin. Dana told me about people being at Remi's house. Mary told me about the hidden attic space in the store when I started doing renovations. There's an old file clerk in the records section of City Hall. He told me all kinds of things when I was working there." She chuckled softly, remembering. "Made me real popular."

"Wow. How, how do you see them, hear them?"

"It's like," she swallowed hard, trying to describe what she could only see and hear. "It's like a story playing in your mind, like a movie, except you have no control over the story, and you don't know how the story's going to end. Sometimes they'll answer me if I ask them things. Sometimes they won't. The emotions I feel aren't mine, and I know they're not mine, yet they feel like they're mine. I've woken up with bruises on my chest from when someone was shot, and I can feel the bullet exploding in my chest, but there's no bullet. One time I had to leave a house because I was suddenly coughing and it felt like I was drowning."

"Did someone die from drowning there?"

"Worse. Pneumonia, from the early days before the medical field got a grip on it. Not fun."

"No, it wouldn't be. I've had it, and bronchitis. Feels like you're being strangled every time you try and breathe."

"Like that. That's when I found out the current owner's great grandfather had died of pneumonia years ago, in the same room where I suddenly couldn't breathe."

"Wow. Must make glass hunting fun."

She chuckled. "Sometimes. Sometimes I can block them out, sometimes I can't."

"How do you block them out?" he asked, reaching for her hands and threading his fingers through hers. She curled her fingers into his, liking, needing the contact, after putting the glass of wine down.

"You ever watch _Star Trek_?"

"Once in a while. The shields up thing?"

She nodded. "I imagine I'm drawing up a shield like that around me. If I'm not feeling good, that shield isn't as strong as I'd like it to be, but if I'm determined enough, it can be pretty strong. But sometimes, no matter how strong I think I am, there's always the ones who manage to get through, and I see things I don't want to see, like past events, especially if they're recent, or they were emotionally charged, for lack of better description."

"Like the man in the courtyard?"

"Yeah. Something was going on with King around that time, and it had something to do with his heart, because I can see him clutching it."

"I can't go into too much detail about that, but that sounds like around the time King got back from dealing with his heart surgery. He was still struggling a bit, for a while."

She took a deep breath, feeling tears smarting behind her eyes. "There's a woman in your yard, with red hair. She's on the ground, and there's a man with black hair holding a gun. Something bad happened there, and I can feel the grief and rage in that area."

Chris swallowed hard, feeling his own eyes smarting. "There was, I was dating a woman for a while, a few years back. Her name was Savannah, and…"

"She was murdered, and you found her." There was no question in her voice; it was a statement of fact.

"She's still there?"

"No. It's an echo, like a blood stain that won't go away no matter how many times you try and clean it. I can feel her fear, his determination, and I can feel your emotions, like the rage and the grief." She swallowed hard. "I can block out the echo, but I can't erase what I can feel, and all I want to do is comfort you, even though I know that it happened already. I can't do anything about what happened, except to say I'm sorry you went through that, and even that's meaningless."

"No, it's not, because you can feel what I felt. You can understand. And knowing you care enough to want to try and help me, that means a lot. Loretta and King said your mom slapped you around when you started showing signs of your abilities, and that's just plain wrong. It's like slapping a kid for showing signs of being an artist or a piano player. Talent is talent, regardless of the kind."

Ray swallowed hard. "Does that mean it's okay for me to talk to you about these things? About the things I see, I hear, even feel?"

"If you don't tell me, I can't help you, and maybe, together, we can help each other," he said.

"I really liked it when you were there when I had that last nightmare," she confessed. "That felt good, and I felt safe. I felt balanced, and that's how you make me feel when you touch me."

"Good. Then, for as long as we can, I aim to keep touching you," he said. "Seems black tourmaline is good for dispelling negative energies. Is that why you wear it?" he asked, rubbing his thumb over her ring.

She smiled. "Yeah. It was something Father Martin suggested years ago, and I found this beauty just after I came to New Orleans."

"He the guy in the long black dress King says you saw when you were a kid?"

She chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, he taught me a lot before I left."

"Tell me about him."

"Only if you'll promise me something."

"Okay."

"The nightmares, they have a pattern of hitting me between midnight and three a.m., which is known as the witching hours, depending on who you talk to."

"If I'm not there, you call me. If I am, I'll make damn sure you feel safe until you fall asleep again," he promised. And her smile made him privately vow to keep that promise, no matter where he was or how tired he was. Loretta was right; Ray was something special, and he was damned if he was going to let her go just yet, ghosts or not.

_Two weeks later:_

"You do realize we will catch six kinds of hell if someone catches us?" Tammy hissed, carefully placing a drop of glue on Zara's nail, before pressing on a custom painted long nail to the nail.

"Then I'd suggest you stop swearing and start moving a little faster," Loretta shot back.

"We are in a funeral home, in the dead of the night, painting a body, which is being stored with dozens of other bodies, while she's in her casket, and we are doing this illegally, I have a damn good reason for swearing," Tammy shot back.

"In that case, I'm not going to even tell you who is with us," Ray said calmly, dipping a make-up brush in a bright colored eyeshadow pot and carefully applying it to the body's eyelids, following the instructions she was being given.

"Please don't," Loretta said. "Or we might have to finish this alone, because she'll go running out the door."

"Is this almost done?" Tammy hissed, watching as Ray put the brush down and took out a lip liner and a tube of matching suede matte purple lipstick. The tube identified itself as NYX Cosmetics, and the color was Cyberpop.

"A coat of this, and a light brushing of highlighter, and we are good to go," Ray said, working quickly. "And last, but not least, a brush of Stand Your Ground," she said, brushing the Born to Glow powder on the body's cheeks and t-zone. "Hands done?"

"Hands done," Loretta said, carefully positioning the body's hands, which now bore one of the victim's signature rings.

"Earings?" Ray asked.

"In, and her necklace is on her neck," Tammy said.

"Make-up is done, and hair accessories are done. We are good to go. Let's boogey our buns outta here," Ray said, throwing her tools in the backpack she had brought with her. "G'night Darla. See you tomorrow." And with that, she closed the coffin lid.

The next morning, Chris was glaring at his girlfriend, who smiled sweetly from behind her store counter. "What, exactly, did you get up to last night?"

"Ask me no questions, cutie, and I tell you no lies," Ray said.

"Hannah's got a call this morning, demanding to know which of us broke into the funeral home and painted Darla Ballesta's face and nails to the exact specifications of what she used to do when she was doing her make-up blogs," Chris said.

"And the results from the family?"

"Bawling their eyes out in gratitude for, quote, getting everything just right, including the nails and the jewelry," Chris said.

"Then maybe the funeral home should offer a side business of doing their clients in that kind of make-up, instead of all that so-called respectable bullshit. Hmm?" Ray said, smiling. "Might save their business, or at least that's what the original owner of the building told me when I visited a few days ago."

Chris stared at her, not sure what to say. "You're nuts."

"Yeah, but you like me anyway," she said, grinning, and stealing a quick kiss.

"Fortunately for you, yes." He kissed her again. "Next time, though?"

"Yeah?"

"Let me in on the fun."

"That's not a good thing to say to someone like me. You think you have troubles now? You ain't seen nuthin' yet."

"I look forward to it."

_The End… for now._

_AN: Ray and Chris will return at a later date, once I complete several other open chapters. After all, there was a reason for that bullet..._


End file.
